Lies About Love
by aurrasingrules101
Summary: Jaina and Jag battle and inconsistent marriage while trying to raise their young daughter and face debilitating military charges. Some JacenTK and JacenDanni, as well as AnakinTahiri and LukeMara. Sequel to Dubious Engagement. AU
1. Chapter 1: Fractures

Notes: Sequel to Dubious Engagement which you can find at  on TFN at http://boards. This is George Lucas' sandbox, I'm just playing in it.

**Here is the summary of Dubious Engagement for those of you who have not and do not intend to read it. **

Settle down and get ready for a revolutionary alternative universe featuring our some of our favorite EU characters. Follow the story of Jaina Solo's dubious engagement to the dashing young Chiss officer Jagged Fel as they battle to make the best of a situation thrust upon them by galactic politics.

Since age 6, Jaina, Jacen and Anakin Solo have been in the loving care of their uncle, Luke Skywalker. Unable to balance the duties of Chief of State and mother, Leia Organa Solo has allowed Luke to raise and care for her children. Some ten years later, in the midst of galactic turmoil, Jaina Solo takes her place in New Republic history when she is used as a bargaining chip in a tedious peace treaty with the Chiss Ascendancy. Her role: to marry a young Chiss Colonel by the name of Fel. This arranged marriage is to be bring peace to two long off-standing governments. 

Expecting the worst, what she finds surprises her: instead of a staunch Chiss commander, she finds an amiable - and attractive - human. After a small civil service on the Chiss central planet of Csilla, even in the face of the adverse situation, Jag and Jaina call a truce and a tentative friendship begins. Just as Jaina and Jag begin to settle into their new life together, tragedy strikes. In an apparent accident, Jag's best friend Shawnkyr is killed – and Jag suggests foul play. His investigation begins, but is interrupted as a larger, galactic threat enters the scene – the Yuuzhan Vong invade the outskirts of Chiss space, and Jag is sent to the front lines. 

Left on her own, Jaina befriends a local store owner –the only other human living on Csilla - a young woman named Touri. But soon after Jag's departure, Jaina is surprised to find Touri has left on an unannounced extended vacation leaving her brother Payton to run the store. A comfortable friendship between the two develops, despite the warnings of several close to Jaina. When Jag returns on leave, Payton continues to push the relationship even when Jaina rejects him. In a moment of desperation, Payton steals a kiss – just as Jag enters the room. When Jaina finally finds Jag to discuss Payton's actions, the conversation brings a shocking revelation: their friendship has somehow developed into something much more – they are in love. Finally, their marriage is true in legality, body and soul. This time, as Jag prepares to head back to the front lines, Jaina is prepared – and follows.

Her presence soon proves useful. The Chiss have little intelligence information on the enemy, prompting Jaina to volunteer for a dangerous infiltration mission. Once on board the wounded Yuuzhan Vong vessel, she learns the terrible truth: the Yuuzhan Vong do not exist in the Force. As hope of her escape diminishes, her husband saves the day, cruising in to the rescue. Upon their return, Jag and Jaina are determined to spread the word of this dangerous threat: Jag heads to the Empire, Jaina to the New Republic after a brief respite on Csilla.

Upon her arrival at Csilla, Jaina discovers another awful truth: Payton is a Yuuzhan Vong agent, sent to split up Jaina and Jag in hopes of destabilizing the fragile New Republic and Chiss alliance. It was he who brutally murdered both Shawnkyr and his own sister Touri, even as he attempted to move in on Jaina. Jaina tracks him down to bring him to justice, but the ensuing confrontation ends in Payton's death. 

As Jaina returns to the New Republic with the enemy intelligence, her loyalty to her family – and the Jedi - is tested. They ask her to do what might be unforgivable: betray the Chiss – and her new love and allegiance to Jag. Left without options and hoping to bring a swift end to the war, Jaina uses Jag's access to steal high security intelligence about Yuuzhan Vong locations – hoping to allow the Jedi to attempt something no one else has – negotiate.

The Jedi arrive at Tiras – a remote planet in Chiss space - and talk their way onto the planets' surface. When negotiations turn aggressive, the Jedi fight their way out with heavy casualties. Hearing news of the attack and suspecting the source of the Jedi intelligence, Jag leaves his post in the Empire to return home and confront his wife. As their new love tears at the seams, Jaina takes the Fel family speeder and escapes into the frigid Csilla night. Things turn desperate when Jag learns that the speeder Jaina took has been malfunctioning and won't make it further than 5 miles into the killer blizzard. Eager to prevent her death, Jag heads out after her, arriving just in time to save her life, and their relationship.

Determined to put the past behind them, Jaina and Jag head to the New Republic, allowing Jag to meet all of Jaina's family and giving their relationship a fresh start. Jaina is sad to learn that the Chiss have banished her from Csilla for her security file theft, leaving the couple adrift without a home. Trying to find a safe alternative, Jag suggests they relocate to the Empire, where he had been previously received with open arms by Grand Admiral Paelleon. After the brief respite on Coruscant, the couple defects to Bastion to start their new life as Imperials.

Jaina and Jag are indeed received with open arms. Bringing valuable intelligence information to the table, the Imperial military is strengthened. They quickly move up the ranks within the first months of their time in the Empire, each catapulting to the rank of General. Forced to split up and fight on separate fronts, the two married Generals reunite several months later when Jaina discovers a massive enemy plot: an impending offensive is aimed at Ithor. When Jaina rushes to warn the New Republic army, she's caught away from her command and in the heat of battle in a lone star fighter. As combat rages around her, her fighter is damaged, leaving her vulnerable and surrounded. In the nick of time, Jag arrives and rushes in, sacrificing his fighter to save Jaina from destruction. As Jaina struggles to latch onto Jag's injured ship with the Force and bring them both to safety, she is joined in her efforts by her brothers, on board a nearby ship. But soon the enemy targets their wounded fighters, and this time it's the legendary smuggler Han Solo who comes to his daughter's rescue – sacrificing himself, his co-pilot and his beloved ship in the process.

The estranged Solo family is hard hit by Han's loss. As Jag recovers from his injuries, Jaina secretly sneaks away to Coruscant to attend the funeral services. While there, she encounters her mother and for the first time in nearly 10 years, they are able to communicate; Jaina convincing Leia that a peace treaty with both the Chiss and the Empire would help to save the galaxy and avert more deaths. Several weeks later, as the Generals Fel return to Coruscant for the signing of the peace accord, they are shocked hear that Mara has been afflicted with a terrible degenerative disease – and to make matters worse, she's carrying her and Luke's first child. To aid in the war effort and in NR and Imperial relations, Luke and Mara accompany Jaina and Jag back to the Empire, taking Cilghal with them to monitor Mara's health condition.

As Luke and Mara settle into their new surroundings and Mara's sickness continues to rack her body, more unexpected news is revealed. Chak, Jag's long-thought-dead older brother is in fact alive and in Yuuzhan Vong custody as a coral-infested slave. As the slave ship carrying Chak disappears, Jaina makes a more personal realization: she too is pregnant. The celebration is joyous, but short lived – it serves to give the Fels a new focused goal: end the war and end it fast. As the galactic conflict continues, Jag is desperate to rescue Chak and stop the endless flow of slaves that travels through their sector. During such an attempt, a Master YV Shaper named Nen Yim taken alive and held captive. Finally, the break-through they've been waiting for.

The Jedi decide to learn more about the Shaper and allow her to learn more about them in an attempt to put a face on the enemy. Yim is transferred back to the Empire under the watchful eyes of the Skywalkers and Fels. But Yim and conspirator Nom Anor hatch a counter-plan: learn as much as possible and then kill the leading Jedi family. Under the ruse of finding a cure for Mara's illness, Yim attempts to inject the Jedi with poison. Through the Force, Jaina and brother Anakin sense a trap and reject it. This brings about Yim's confession and ultimate conversion – she will now seek to find a way to save her people and bring an end to the war.

Meanwhile, the young alliance between the great galactic powers hatches a cunning plan: lure the Vong to the deadly Maw and provoke the very last battle there – sending the Vong into the depths of the numerous black holes located there. Danni Quee, an astronomer rescued from the Yuuzhan Vong captivity (and Jacen Solo's new interest) is placed in charge of mapping the Maw so that Alliance ships are safe during battle. But the Skywalkers hatch a back-up plan aiming to subvert the enemy and weaken them from within. While Jag and Jaina are on leave at Coruscant, Luke, Mara and Cilghal fake their deaths, using Anakin as the messenger. While Jaina and Jag are not sold, to support the ruse they rush back to the Empire. There, they find that the ruse was devised as a mechanism to allow Nen Yim return to her people. There, she will build a rebellion from the inside out, working with the lowest class – the Shamed Ones – to overturn the YV government. 

In the blink of an eye, 6 months pass as all sides ready what is sure to be the ultimate battle of the war for the galaxy. Before Yim's plan can be completed, she is found out by her past partner, Nom Anor, and killed. At the same time, back in Imperial space, Mara, now cured by Nen Yim, gives birth to a beautiful baby boy – Ben. As the family celebrates the new arrival, the battle draws near – even faster than anticipated. After the discovery and death of Nen Yim, Nom Anor and the Supreme Overlord Shimrra hatch a plan in hope of throwing off the New Republic: they launch a surprise attack on Coruscant and capture it. In desperation, Leia and several other able ships escape, heading for the safety of the Maw – and effectively bring the battle with them. The forces in the Maw are weak and unprepared; the situation turning more desperate with every passing moment. Anakin Solo is sent out from the Maw to reach help – any help at all.

It is in this midst of this chaos that Hanna, Jaina's little girl, decides to enter the galaxy. Tucked away on board her ship, the _Roughshod_, Jaina goes into labor as Jag, in the midst of battle, rushes to be by her side for the blessed event. It is with such a grand entrance and an impeccable sense of timing, that Hanna Fel is born.

With Jaina out of commission and tending to their daughter, Jag is needed to coordinate the battle at hand and heads back into the fray. But not hours after Hanna's birth, the break of the war finds its way to Jaina: the Supreme Overlord wishes to parley – for the life and release of Chak Fel and possibly the end of the war. Even in her weakened state, Jaina is determined to retrieve Jag's brother – even if she dies trying. Unable to veer her from such a course, Jacen insists he accompany her. The twins head to the heart of the YV fleet to meet their destiny.

The twins arrive on the Supreme Overlord's ship and are welcomed into his mighty chamber. Shimrra stands on his dias, a monstrosity of a YV. Beside him stands Chak, expression blank, but alive and relatively well. Also present is Nom Anor, the murderous executor who has so desperately tried to harm or kill Jaina, her family and her husband on several occasions. As negotiations open, the twins find the deal has changed – Shimrra now demands a life for a life. Even as the recent ordeal of childbirth weighs on Jaina's body, talks fail and Jaina and Jacen jump headlong into a final battle: for their lives, for their future and for their galaxy. 

Weak and out of practice, Jaina takes on the giant Shimrra, receiving quite a beating even as Jacen handles the numerous _other_ YV in the chamber. As death comes swiftly at her in the form of an ampistaff, a moment of revelation allows Jaina to not only safe herself, but defeat the Overlord with a brilliant display of cunning and Force abilities. As she readies to help Jacen in his own losing battle, she is attacked from behind by the traitorous Nom Anor. In the consequent clash, Anor is wounded and flees from the battle. With their enemies finally vanquished, the twins – both beaten, bloody and barely able to walk – aid the helpless Chak towards their shuttle, both knowing that it is doubtful that the shuttle even remains intact.

As the Solo twins head for a certain dead end, the outside battle resumes as Anakin arrives in the nick of time with reinforcements from the Empire. The Imperial forces begin to quickly take control of the battle, leaving only one problem – Jaina and Jacen are still on board the Overlord's vessel. There, the twins meet little resistance as the YV scramble to fight the space battle beyond. They arrive at the ship's hanger bay to find their worst fears confirmed: their shuttle is demolished. They have no way out. As Jaina moves to try and commandeer an enemy vessel, the roar of engines fills the bay. Jagged Fel, in the _Jade Sabre_ on loan from Mara, once again flies to the rescue. Infuriated though he is at his bride's rash action, he's unable to hold back the joy he feels at her safe return. Even more amazing, there is Chak – alive, but a mentally empty shell. Still short for time, Jag rushes back to the _Roughshod_ bringing Chak, Jaina and Jacen in for immediate medical attention. As the pull into the Imperial ship's hanger bay, victory is won – the Overlord's ship is destroyed. 

The war is over.

_Epilogue: _

Weeks later, Jaina and Jag return to Coruscant. Chak has been in intensive care at the New Republics best and brightest research facility. While the coral implants previously controlling him have been removed, they have left massive damage. Jaina and Jag face an awful truth: Chak has no memories, no knowledge of anything. He will have to learn everything – eating, walking and talking – from the beginning, as a child. It will be a long road to recovery, but in time, recover he will.

So finally the time came – over a year after their small civil ceremony on Csilla, the Fels grant Leia her request – a large, elaborate wedding ceremony highlighting the alliance between two of the galaxy's greatest governments and now, a celebration of peace and the bright future to come. In the midst of thousands of beings – and Hanna in the audience, Jag and Jaina make the ceremony their own. It is a moment forever ushering their once dubious engagement into the halls of true love, matrimony and the future. 

end 

**Chapter 1: Fractures**

The heavens were clear and spotless, the stars visible and shining over the solitary moon, blanketing Varen and his crew with an artificial comfort of peace. Or perhaps that was the problem. There was too much peace, the galaxy was resting. But it was restless.

At least, that's the way Varen saw it. There needed to be conflict, a reason for he and his crew to exist. There was no call for smugglers, for slave traders, when no one needed the goods he carried. He had built his company from scratch, and it had grown in leaps and bounds, especially throughout the Yuuzhan Vong war. He had briefly lent his efforts to groups of people who favored succession, but that didn't take hold. It was the Vong themselves who had been in need of his services. He had handed thousands, hundreds of thousands of refugees over to the enemy, and made fortune beyond his wildest dreams doing so.

Almost every single slave had perished the Maw four years prior, leaving no evidence of his treachery. His company was clandestine, underneath even the seediest of traders scattered across Nal Hutta and other havens of crime. It existed outside the knowledge of most crime bosses, and was completely unknown to the government high-ups who would give him trouble.

But as in all businesses of his sort, there were risks. Varen didn't do well with maybes, he wanted _guarantees_. He had worked hard, sacrificed so much to get where he was, to achieve the kind of wealth he had. And so after the Maw he had killed all of his ranking officers and brought in new people, ones who couldn't betray him. He could always find new people, but couldn't risk being found out. The Galactic Federation of Free Alliances—as the united New Republic and Empire had decided to call themselves—had an extreme sensitivity to things that had happened during the war. If they had known he had been a key contributer in supplying the enemy with resources and slaves...well, he knew there would be no mercy.

And so he needed a plan, and a good one. There weren't many living who could name him for his crimes, and all but one of them were in no position to give him any trouble. And even that one was a long shot, a very unlikely instance. But Varen didn't take chances. Of course, it was also a possibility that while trying to implement this plan of his he would only incriminate himself unnecessarily. That's why he needed a good plan, a foolproof one. And that was why he was on this singular moon in the farest edge of space, making preparation for the scheme to come. Readying his men for the fall of greatness.

Clouds hung above Coruscant; gray, fluffy clouds the color of the ocean after it rains, or a foggy mirror. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a promise of the storm to come. The former Imperial Center was famous for its rare but devastating lightning storms, and by the sound and flashing lights this one was sure to be sizeable. Jaina curled further under the sheets of her bed, trying to block out the noise and the rebellious echo in her womb.

A tremendous clap of lightning sounded overhead, and the baby responded by kicking her painfully. The result was the protesting of her stomach, and before the crackling had died away she was lurching to the 'fresher. She barely made it, reaching the disposal bin just in time to retch into its interior. She stood slowly, moving to the sink and washing her face and mouth as rain began to pelt the windows outside her bedroom. 

"Are you okay?" Jag's voice interrupted the storm.

"And I had thought I was long done with morning sickness," she grumbled as she padded back into the sleeping quarters and sat on the edge of the bed.

A hand grappled for her in the dark, pulling her back under the covers. "I guess you've graduated to 0300 sickness," he replied with dry wit.

"Ha ha," she said, letting his arms envelop her. "Very funny. You're the one who did this to me, I would think you could be a little more compassionate."

"I'm very compassionate," he said huskily, lips trailing along her collar bone sensually.

Jaina sighed and closed her eyes, happy for the rare moment of intimacy. They had been living almost separate lives of late, instead of together they existed parallel to each other. Jaina spent her days taking care of Hanna and Chak while Jag acted as ambassador of affairs to the New Republic, the Coruscanti representative of the Empire in the newly formed Galactic Federation of Free Alliances. In the beginning they had both held the position, but after they had decided to have a second child Jaina had remained at home more and more until she only stopped by the Embassy on occasion.

They tried to maintain the same relationship they had always had, though Jaina thought they were fighting and uphill battle. There had been a few bumps in the marital road of late, mostly because of Jaina's selfish wish to turn back time. Things had been rough but simple during the war, and she found herself wishing more and more that they could return the innocent love of that first year.

But they made time for each other still, no matter what. And soon they were relocating back to Bastion, very soon if they wanted to complete the move before the baby was born. That would help matters tremendously. _And so does this_, Jaina thought as his ministrations moved lower, hands tugging at the sash of her robe.

"Where were you five months ago?" she panted, remembering how randy the second month of pregnancy had made her.

His response was only a low chuckle as he returned his kiss to her mouth, pressing her lips thirstily. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. This was one thing that would never get old...

"Mommy!"

They both relaxed like deflated balloons, Jag moving away from her with an irritated sigh. "Yes, sweetie?" she called back, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

"Mommy the storm scares me!"

Jaina sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed tiredly. She tossed Jag a regretful look, and padded quietly out of the room. "I'm coming, Hanna."

Hanna Fel was a small, female version of her father. When Jaina entered the room she was sitting straight up in bed, black hair frazzled and nightgown twisted around her tiny form. That was one thing she had gotten from Jaina, a petite stature that belied her energetic nature. At the moment her lower lip was extended far past its usual level in an expression that was part fright and part pout. "Mommy," she whimpered as another bolt of lightning cracked just outside they window.

Jaina smiled and came to sit on the small bed, helping Hanna climb onto her lap, somewhat reduced from the protrusion of her belly. "It's okay, Hanna, the storm can't hurt you."

The four-year-old buried her face in Jaina's chest, clutching the folds of her robe in both tiny hands. "Why's it so loud? Something that loud should hurt." 

Jaina sat back against the headboard, holding her daughter close as she considered the question. No, stature was not the only thing Hanna had inherited from her mother. She had also managed to acquire a bit of her cynicism. What had her Uncle Luke told she and her brothers when they were younger? "Thunderstorms are nothing to be afraid of," she began slowly. "That loud noise? It's just the sound of the clouds bumping together. The bigger the cloud, the bigger the noise. And when they hit, little pieces break loose, and that's what we call rain."

"What about the lightning?" Hanna sniffled.

"Lightning happens when all the bumping clouds knock into the planetary shield," she said, trying to sound serious. The story had eased her own fears many years ago.

Hanna relaxed a little bit, but didn't let go of her. "Can it hurt people in space ships?"

"Sometimes," Jaina admitted reluctantly. "But no one really flies in a storm, so you don't have to worry about it."

"Can it come in my room?" she asked in a low whisper, as if the question itself was dangerous.

"Never," Jaina promised. "Will you be okay now if I go?"

"No." 

Jaina sighed. "Do you want me to stay until you fall back asleep?"

"Yes."

Making herself comfortable, she leaned back against the headboard and waited for her child to go back to sleep. She was growing so fast, sometimes it was nice to be needed. That was one reason she had wanted a second child, to have a baby to hold once again. Hanna was so rebelliously independent that she hardly ever wanted to be held or carried anymore. But such was life, and Jaina was grateful her daughter was growing normally.

Yet there was someone else in the house that wasn't. Chak's mind had regained its normal functioning, even though his memories were lost in the void. He was capable of adult thought and could carry off the act well. But inside he was still very sheltered and immature, just as someone newly born into an adult body should be. He knew that Jaina and especially Jag didn't expect much of him. They expected him to walk and talk and function on his own, and take himself to the 'fresher and be able to drive a speeder or space craft or whatever necessary. But beyond that there was no standard, and sometimes it seemed to Jaina that he had no desire to push himself further. It was when this thought occurred to her that she grew troubled, but Jag would hear none of it. Chak's recovery was miraculous, he said, and he would let Chak be whatever he wanted to be. He wouldn't push him in one direction or another. And since Chak was Jag's brother, she really had no choice but to concede.

Still, she knew what would be best for him. He needed stimulation, to be pushed past the comfortable zone he had settled in. To be treated like the adult he was, forced to grow. It sounded harsh, she knew, and that was probably why Jag wouldn't hear of it. But Chak would never be independent, happy, or feel self-worthy until he was made to be the adult he was.

"Chak, are you coming with Hanna and me to see Mara and Ben?" Jaina asked as she poured the blue milk from the container into Hanna's cereal bowl.

He shrugged, taking another bite of his processed granular breakfast. He was slouched against the sofa, bowl precariously balanced against his chest, watching the morning younglings addition of the Holonet. He was a tall man, a little taller than Jag and bearing a great resemblance to him. When she had first seen him he had been a scrawny little thing, malnourished; little more than skin stretched over bones. But his appetite grew with his recovery, and regular trips to the rehabilitation facility where they helped him return to normal had built back up at least some semblance of his former muscularity and stature.

"Nah," he answered after he had finished chewing. "I think I'll go to work with Jag and run the sims." A gigantic Imperial Embassy had been built when Grand Admiral Pellaeon had allowed Jaina and Jag to stay behind on Coruscant as ambassadors to the New Republic, complete with a company of stormtroopers and squadron of TIE fighters and several sets of barracks, all along with the numerous offices and conference rooms.

"Okay," she said, setting Hanna's breakfast down in front of her on the kitchen table. "You might want to ask him first, though."

"Jag!" he yelled loudly, and Jaina smirked at his misinterpretation. "Can I go to the Embassy with you today?"

"If you want," he answered as he emerged from the bedroom, pulling his tunic over his head. "Good Morning," he said softly to Jaina, kissing her upturned cheek. He then bent and kissed the top of Hanna's head, ruffling her hair playfully.

"Hanna and I are going to see Mara," Jaina told him.

"Okay. Do you want to meet us for lunch at the Marquee?" he asked, referring to the strip of open-air tapcafes on the edge of the Senatorial District.

"It depends on how long we're with Mara. I'll comm you later if we do." 

"Okay," he smiled, kissing her once more. "Come on Chak, we have to go now if we're going."

The older man stood, downing the remainder of milk in his bowl in one drink. "Coming."

"Ben!" Hanna exclaimed happily, waving her arms as she ran towards her cousin. Ben Skywalker and Hanna Fel were only two weeks apart in age, and had grown up more like siblings than cousins.

Jaina allowed her to run down the ferrocrete footpath through the trees towards the place Ben and Mara sat, but Jaina continued at her slow pace. Already in her seventh month, quickly approaching eighth, walking for long periods of time was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and so she settled for keeping Hanna within her line of sight. The trees in the indoor gardens were blooming in their artificial Spring, pink and red buds hanging from their branches in brilliant clusters. The particular tree Mara was sitting under was huge in its girth and height, hundreds of ropy knots twisting together into one gigantic tree. Its laden white canopy bowed under the weight of the blooms, the lowest branches coming within two meters of the ground. Mara waved to her from the slight dip between its roots, her red hair in stark contrast with the white flowers.

"I'm so glad you suggested this place," Jaina said as she came within earshot. "It's beautiful." 

Mara smiled dryly. "It's the Ithorian gardens, the surviving remnant of flora from the war."

Jaina smiled sadly. "I'm sure they love having something left, at least." 

"How are you doing, Jaina?" Mara asked, helping her niece take a seat beside her. Ben and Hanna had already scampered into the open park area and were attempting to catch a wayward flitterfly. 

"Tired," Jaina answered. "It was hard with Hanna, but this one is so much more temperamental," she sighed.

"Boys always are, or that's at least what I've heard," Mara said. "Ben certainly seemed more rambunctious than Hanna."

Jaina ran a loving hand over her stomach. "He certainly keeps me on my toes. You know I actually got another bout of morning sickness last night?" 

Mara shook her head. "It'll all be over soon, as you well know. So how is everyone else? I haven't talked to you all in forever, it seems. I'm so busy with the new Jedi Temple."

"We're just trying to get prepared for the move. Hanna's taking it better than, Chak, I think. He's never known anything but here, and it scares him. And Jag's working himself into the ground, like usual. He's home less and less, Pellaeon's running him ragged. That's another reason we wanted to go back to Bastion. This job is getting to be too much. We handled it fine when I was still able to help, but he can't do it on his own, no matter how hard he tries to pretend it's okay."

"We're going to miss you," Mara smiled, laying a hand on her arm. "But I certainly understand. Have you heard from Jacen and Danni lately?"

Jaina shook her head slowly. "Not in a few weeks. And then he told me things were getting rough. She's still pushing him to get married, and he's till staunchly against it. I'm not sure how it'll all turn out."

"Does he love her?"

Jaina considered the question carefully before answering. "I think he did, once. And probably still does. But mostly, I think he just wants to keep things the way they are. He's always had a problem with overanalyzing, overthinking things. He's very cautious, and this time I'm afraid his caution is going to cost him Danni."

"What's her rush?" Mara said, plucking a fallen flower from the grass and twirling it between her fingers. 

Jaina laughed shortly. "I think you have a slightly slanted view on the subject, Ms. I-waited-ten-years-to-marry-my-husband." 

"And so do you, Ms. I-waited-two-days." They both laughed then, the ridiculousness of it all too apparent. "Well, they both turned out okay in the end," Mara smiled.

Jaina smiled wistfully. "Let's hope."

Mara scowled gently. "Are you and Jag having problems again?"

"When were we not having problems?" Jaina returned. "I feel so tied down, Aunt Mara. I can see everything I wanted in my life just slipping through my fingers, and there's nothing I can do about it. And no matter how many times I tell him, Jag just doesn't seem to understand."

Mara plucked a petal from the flower and let it waft back to the ground. "If there's one thing I've learned from marriage, it's that love is a lie."

Jaina frowned at the statement, unsure of what the it meant or if she wanted to know. But before she could ask Ben and Hanna came bounding towards them, giggling hysterically. "Mommy, save me!" Hanna squealed, coming to hide behind her back.

"I can't save you," Jaina said dryly. "You have to save yourself." 

"Well I'm going to get you both," Mara said, jumping to her feet and making a ridiculous face that was supposed to be mock-scary. Despite, both children squealed happily and took off at a run. Jaina sat and watched thoughtfully as Mara caught both of them, then subjected them to the horrors of merciless tickling. It was easy to fall back into the happiness of the moment, but still Mara's last statement haunted the back of her mind.

Jaina hurried along the catwalk, suspended hundreds of feet in the air, tugging Hanna along beside her. They're date with Mara and Ben had ended before lunch, and so they had decided to meet Jag and Chak at the Marquee. They were already fifteen minutes late, but she didn't think her back could handle carrying Hanna the rest of the way. 

Finally they were there, traversing the long walkway lining the row of tapcafes. She spotted Jag at a table and steered Hanna in that direction. He smiled as he saw them coming, but didn't stand. "Where's Chak?" she asked, setting Hanna onto a chair between herself and Jag.

"The 'fresher," he answered. "How were Mara and Ben?"

"They're doing fine," she said, folding a napkin and tucking it in Hanna's collar.

"I'm glad you could make it," he said. "I have a meeting with the Bothan senators this evening, you should probably take him home."

Jaina nodded, gesturing for the waitress to come to the table. She came, a four-armed Codru-Ji that sat a menu in front of each of them and pulled a note pad from her apron. After taking their orders she retreated back to the kitchen, to return a moment later with their beverages. By then Chak had returned, taking a seat opposite Hanna. "How was your day?" she smiled at her brother-in-law.

"Good," he replied shortly. "I beat Lieutenant Kensing in the simulators." 

Jaina threw Jag a questioning look and he confirmed with a nod. Chak had no memory of his military and pilot training, but it was obvious he still had the extincts and maybe even unconscious memory of those days back on Csilla. Jaina felt her stomach turn over several times, and once again she knew doubtlessly that the place he belonged was back at home with his family.

"That's wonderful, Chak," Jaina said truthfully. "How did he take it?" 

Chak smirked as he downed a large gulp of his drink. "He dented the control panel."

Jaina laughed and shook her head. "I can imagine."

"Daddy," Hanna said, tugging on his shirt, "can I be a pilot some day?"

Jag's eyes lifted and locked with Jaina's, and for a moment they were both completely in accord, and as thrilled with their daughter as they had ever been. Then he looked back down at Hanna and beamed. "Of course you can. You're going to be the best pilot this galaxy's ever seen." 

She smiled, satisfied with his answer, and turned back to playing with the paper wrapping that had come off her straw.

They finished the meal in a comfortable quiet, but towards the end Chak said abruptly, "When are we moving?"

The question took them both off-guard, and Jaina took a long sip from her drink while she collected her thoughts. "Before the baby's born," she replied finally.

"Why?" Jag questioned.

Chak shrugged. "Dr. Banks said to come see her one more time before we left." 

"I'll take you tomorrow," Jag promised.

Jaina frowned minutely, having a bad feeling she wasn't sure about. It was like those feelings she got as a General in battle, when she could _feel_ the tension about to break loose before the enemy would strike. But no matter how hard she tried, she could pinpoint its origination. So she finished her meal with wary uneasiness, praying that for once she could be wrong.

The burden of knowing her brother-in-law, who she loved as much as if he was her own, could possible have so much more in life weighed heavily on her. So heavily that by that evening when Jag returned home she was prepared to use whatever means necessary to convince him of the same. 

"Jag," she started immediately as he came through the door, "we need to talk."

Her husband sighed heavily, taking off his shirt and pulling on sleep pants before turning to answer her. "Jaina, if this is just another something we can fight about, can't it wait until morning?"

Jaina raised her chin slightly. "No."

He ran a hand through his hair and came to stand in front of where she sat on the edge of the bed. "What is it?"

"Chak," she said. "You're not doing him any favors by keeping him here."

"I'm not keeping him here," he replied flippantly. "He's coming to Bastion with us."

"You know exactly what I mean," she snapped, her anger making her flush. "The thing with the simulators today, you know what that could mean. What if he could get his memory back, Jag, but doesn't have the right kind of catalyst? If you sent him home, where he spent most of his life, something there could trigger the person he was. You know I love him and want him here, too, but because I love him I know the best thing for him is to go back. Can't you see that too?"

Jag looked away for a long moment, the muscles in his arms and chest tightening with his stress. "I can't take him and just leave him with strangers, Jaina. And that's who Mother and Father would be to him. We're all he knows."

Jaina shook her head tiredly. "There's only so much I can do for him. He needs to live like he did before he was captured. I can't give him that, Jag. None of us can. You have to let him _live_."

"He doesn't know how," Jag argued, a tinge of anger to his speech.

"That's why you have to let him learn," she said almost tenderly. She knew it was hurting him to hear this, but he needed it. "Take him home, Jag."

He was struggling, that much was visible; but if past experience was any indication, it was around this point in their arguments that he usually caved. And this time he did to, she thought smugly as the resigned look came over his face. "I'll talk to Chak tomorrow."

Jagged Fel was nervous. He rarely allowed anything to break through his calm outer shell, but telling his brother that they were taking him a galaxy away and leaving him with strangers was one thing that made his heart race. Chak sat in the copilot's chair of the family speeder, happy to be on his way to see Ismene. Jag often wondered if Chak's feelings towards his therapist were healthy, but there was really no good way to ask him about it. So Jag let what was be, and ignored the possibility that his brother had a soft spot for the doctor.

"Chak," he began slowly, gathering his thoughts about him, "how do you feel about the move?"

"I'd rather not go," he said casually, keeping his eyes fixed outside the transparisteel viewport.

Jag licked his lips nervously. "What would you say if I told you that there was a chance you wouldn't have to go?"

Chak turned to him sharply, a keen look in his eye. He looked so much like the man he had once been, the headstrong, powerful older brother that he had looked up to for as long as he could remember. Perhaps Jaina was right; if taking him to Csilla could bring that man back, maybe it was worth it. "How?"

Jag considered, searching for a suitable response. "Do you ever wonder about our family?" 

"Jaina and Hanna?"

"No," Jag said, shaking his head. "_Our_ family. Our parents, and brother and sister." 

Chak shrugged. "Not really. What are they like?"

"Well, they all live on Csilla, a planet in the Unknown Regions controlled by the Chiss. Father is an assistant syndic. Our mother stays at home most of the time, and the last time I saw her Wyn was attending the Academy. She would be fifteen now," Jag mused. He hadn't see her in years, it was hard to tell what his little sister was like anymore. "And we have a younger brother, Cem." He paused, remembering. "And we had a sister Cherith, and a brother Davin, who are both dead now."

Chak took the information in as if they were statistics on a flight report. "Oh."

Jag swallowed hard, throwing him a sideways glance. "Would you like to meet them?" 

Chak looked surprised. "I never really thought about it. I guess so."

"How about tomorrow?" Jag offered.

"You want to go see them tomorrow?" Chak asked, incredulous.

Jag shrugged lightly, as if it was of no great consequence. "Sure, why not?"

He was quiet for several long moments, then finally said with a tinge of humor, "Sure. Why not?"

Dr. Banks was a tall woman, with sandy brown hair and soft features that made it easy to see why so many people who were essentially lost turned to her. Her easy smile spread sweetly across her face as Chak and Jag entered the office, and she stood quickly from behind her desk. "Chak," she smiled, extending her hands to him, "I'm so glad you came to see me one last time."

"I'll be back," he promised with a grin.

Her gaze switched momentarily to Jag, champagne eyes sparkling intensely. "Good Morning, General Fel."

He nodded curtly. "Doctor. Chak said that you wanted to have one more session before we moved to Bastion."

"I did," she smiled. She turned and moved back behind her desk, pulling a datapad from a drawer. Jag and Chak took a seat on the other side. "So, Chak. Have you had any incidents lately, anything that made you feel strange or pensive, maybe sparked some sort of remembrance?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. 

"Well," Jag interrupted, "you beat one of my pilots on the simulators yesterday. Jaina and I thought that was odd when he should have no memory of his piloting days."

Ismene nodded minutely, typing something into her datapad. "That's true. But it doesn't necessarily mean he had any sort of buried memories. He was a pilot of great caliber, if what you tell me is true, and that would require not only training but instincts. He is essentially the same person, and still has the raw skill he did when he was born. It's not unfeasible that he's simply reacting to his nature-born gift." 

Jag nodded disappointedly. "I almost expected as much." 

"Jag's taking me to visit our family on Csilla," Chak announced suddenly.

Her smile faded somewhat, and she threw Jag a sidelong glance. "Family?" she asked.

"Is that okay? For his development, I mean?"

She thought hard for several minutes, then finally nodded. "I supposed it would be good for him to find out where he came from. I give it my consent."

_We were going whether you gave it your consent or not_, Jag thought dryly. "Good," he smiled outwardly.

"Well," she said, pushing he chair away from the desk and standing once again, "I really don't think there's anything more to discuss. I've taken him as far as I can. Now it's up to you, Chak," she said to him. "I'm going to miss you as a patient."

Chak smiled back. "I'll miss you, too. But I'll be back."

"Well you better," she teased. Turning to Jag, "Good day to you, General."

Jag bowed slightly, then guided Chak back out of the room. But before he could leave she called out, "Oh General?"

He stopped at the door, turning half-way to ask, "Yes?"

She grinned gently. "Take good care of him. He's a lot more fragile than he looks."

Jag smiled back, understanding. "I will."

Jag threw his wife a helpless look, hoping she could somehow pry the clinging four-year-old from his neck. Jaina smirked and came to her daughter, tugging at her waist gently. "Hanna, Daddy has to go now. Let go."

"No!" she exclaimed, wrapping herself more tightly around him. "I won't let you go!" 

Jag sighed, touched and annoyed at the same time. "Hanna, I'm coming back, soon. I've been on trips without you before, what's wrong this time?"

"I won't let you go!" she repeated stubbornly.

"That's quite enough, Hanna," Jaina said, prying the small fingers from the collar of his tunic.

"Why does Daddy have to go?" she asked, on the verge of bursting into tears.

"Because," Jaina said softly. "Because Uncle Chak needs him to come with him. Don't you want Uncle Chak to get better?"

She nodded and sniffled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "Why don't you go get back in the speeder?" Jaina suggested. Throwing Jag one last look, she let Jaina set her down and walked sullenly across the landing pad.

Jag watched her go sadly. "I wish I could take her with me, let her see Csilla."

"She will, one day," Jaina said. "But I fully expect Csilla to be a dangerous place. They haven't forgiven us for running off those years ago. They still think it was a mistake." 

Jag looked at her sadly. "Was it?"

Jaina gave him a reassuring look. "No. Jag, I know things always haven't been easy, and I'm not the easiest person to live with...but I love you. And that will never change."

He kissed her, careful of the bulge of her stomach. "I'll never stop loving you," he promised. "Take care of yourself while I'm gone. I'll miss you the whole time."

"I will," she said, kissing him one more time. "And you watch out for you. Don't expect a warm welcome or an easy return."

"Don't worry about me. I'm taking the _Valorous_, after all."

"Okay. I love you," she repeated.

"And I love you."

"Chak," she said to her brother-in-law, whom she probably wouldn't see for some time, "you take care as well. We'll miss you."

"I will," he smiled. "Come on, Jag. Let's get this over with. I have a family to meet."


	2. Chapter 2: Time Will Tell

**Chapter 2: Time Will Tell**

Lights on Coruscant weren't scattered or far between, but instead wreathed the skyscrapers as if every day was a holiday. This extravagant illumination made nighttime visibility almost parallel to daytime, and as Danni Quee sauntered slowly across the rooftop flat at dusk she was more than able to see the muscle tension in Jacen's back. He had been spending more and more time here, at the new Jedi Temple, of late, and it was easy to trace his Force-signature once she was inside the building. "Jacen," she breathed finally, just loud enough for him to hear. He looked over his shoulder at her, throwing her the lopsided smile that had once-upon-a-time made her stomach turn over on itself.

"Hey," he grinned, extending his arm for her to come watch the sun set over the skyline with him.

Danni didn't move, but instead crossed her arms over her chest. "I've picked a date."

"A date for what?" he asked nonchalantly.

Danni swallowed hard, raising her chin. "Our wedding."

Jacen's smile faded, and he turned away from her. "Why can't you be happy with what we have?"

"Because we don't have anything," she snapped, hands clenching into fists.

"We have each other," he argued softly. "Why do we need to get married?"

Danni looked at her feet, wearied from the argument they had had too many times to count. And yet, he never seemed to understand. "I love you, Jacen Solo. I love being with you, and I want nothing more in this world than to spend the rest of my life at your side."

He turned a soft expression to her, one that she knew was specifically aimed to mollify her anger. "We can do that without getting married."

"But I have other dreams, too," she pressed on, resolute. She would _make_ him understand. "I want a family, not just a lover. I'm not as young as you Jacen, and in a lot of ways I think I carry my age more heavily. Thirty is so close I can smell it. I don't want to have my children that late in life, and when I have children I want to be able to tell them that Mommy and Daddy made a commitment to each other and are _married_. Can you give me that?"

He studied with great intent the pattern of ferrocrete dust trampled by dozens of Jedi feet. "Some day, yes," he said finally. "But I don't want to burn any bridges. I love you, and right now I feel like I'll love you forever, but nothing is sealed in the stars. Look at my sister: had you ever seen two people more in love than she and Jag? But I haven't talked to her in months when she hasn't told me that she grieved for her wasted youth. I don't want to feel that way. I want to live and experience and _know_ that this is what I want before I make a commitment to you that we both regret."

Danni bit her lower lip against the tears that welled in her eyes. She hugged herself closer, and Jacen came to her, pulling her against his chest and kissing her head softly. "I do love you, Danni. Can't you wait until I know?"

Danni pulled away, wiping furiously at the tears. "I already know that you're what I want, and if you don't then this problem is bigger than I thought. What do you want me to do, Jacen? I can't wait for you forever."

Jacen looked slightly indignant at the comment. "If you loved me you would wait until I was ready."

Anger flared in her chest, and she felt her face flush in response. "If _you_ loved _me_ you would let me go! Don't hold me back, Jacen. If you don't want me, let me move on. I love you more than words can say, and I know that I'm never going to be able to leave you when you keep begging me to stay. And yet I'm digging my own grave because I know that you'll never give me what I need or want. So tell me, Jacen: is this 'freedom' so important to you that it takes precedence over me? Because if you can't look me in the eyes right now and tell me that we'll get married within the month, I'm leaving while I still have the strength of will."

"Would you force me into an alliance I didn't want?" Jacen asked back heatedly.

Danni felt the blood drain from her face, and eventually away from all her extremities, making her go cold all over. "No," she whispered hoarsely. She nodded slowly, the emotion of only a few moments ago completely unreachable in her numb state. "Thank you. Thank you for the past four years, and for making it so easy for me to walk away tonight."

_The firelight was a gentle glow, the soft illumination casting a shadow over Jaina's bare silhouette. The flickering flames danced over her hair and skin, casting it a burnished gold in the darkness. Even with the hearth as the only source of light, he could easily make out the curve of her body, the sinewy muscles of her back moving with fluid ease as she shifted on the soft rug in front of the fire. Jag bit the inside of his cheek, wondering what had ever possessed him to get up and leave the comfort of her embrace. The wine glass in his hand sloshed as he stepped forward, reminding him: thirst._

He sat down softly beside her, wordlessly offering the drink in his hand. She took it without looking at him, sipping the burgundy liquid thoughtfully. Jag couldn't help but admire the subtly sensuous way her lips curved around the rim.

The vacation on Corellia was the first they had had since...well, he supposed it was the first ever. They both had been loath to leave one-year-old Hanna behind, but in the end had faith in Luke and Mara's ability to take care of her in their absence. The other hang up had been Chak, but he was still mostly unresponsive to their attempts at getting to know him. Dr. Banks had assured them he would be fine while they were gone, and Jag guessed that it wouldn't make much difference to him whether they were there or not, considering he still lived in the clinic.

Jaina sat down the chalice and turned a delicate smile on him. "This place has a way of making the galaxy look so much simpler."

Jag looked up towards the ceiling, which was made of panels of transparisteel, offering a fantastic view of the stars outside. "I could live here," he stated finally.

"Do you think, if our marriage had never been arranged, that somehow we would have ended up together?" she asked, picking the glass up again, taking another sip, and handing it back to him.

Jag considered as he took a drink himself, savoring the rich, aged-sweet flavor. "If my father had never joined the Empire, and your _father had never become a smuggler, we both could have been raised right here. Could have grown up in the same city, the same street. But that's a lot of big ifs."_

"Yeah," agreed, turning fully to face him, "but what about destiny_? Do you believe in it?"_

For a minute, all he could meditate on was the fantastic way her face was lighted by the fire, the way her eyes glowed like melted amber and gold. Then he blinked, and forced himself to focus on her question. "I think," he began slowly, "that love has a way of finding you. You can search for it all you want, but in the end you have no control over who your heart picks for you. And at least in my experience, my heart was a lot wiser than I could ever be."

She smiled fully then, the grin making her look much younger than he knew the woman he had spent the last two hours loving was. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pulled him close, and he was obliged to lean forward. "If there is such a thing as destiny, I have no doubt that no matter what other lives we could have led, all paths would lead me right here, into your arms."

They kissed, fully, passionately; and eventually lost themselves in the heat of the fire and their own desire. 

Jag awoke with a start, in the full throes of a cold sweat. His ears rang, and irritatedly he smacked the side of his own head. It was a few seconds later that he realized the ringing was coming from the comm unit. Dazed and visibly upset, he crawled from between the sheets of the bed. Reaching the station he slapped the button aggravatedly. "Fel."

"General, we've entered the Csilla system," an emotionless voice came back. 

"Ready my shuttle," he instructed.

"Yes, Sir." 

Jag remained sitting. The dream had been almost as real as the actual event. He could still smell the mixture of wine and Jaina's perfume, the blue and orange flicker of the fireplace.

That had been a long time ago. A time when he had still been sure that his marriage was unbreakable. When Jaina had been happy. When he could still make her happy.

With a wistful and slightly painful sigh, Jag pulled out his personal comlink and said, "Chak?" 

After a few seconds of waiting, his older brother's voice replied groggily, "What?"

"Get dressed, it's time to go."

Csilla looked much the same as Jag had remembered it. Still snow white with streaks of ice-blue, the planet was ringed with battle groups and defense platforms, fortifying the Ascendancy's capital world.

Chak sat in the copilot's station, boots propped lazily on the control board as he watched Jag maneuver one of the _Valorous_'s many shuttles towards their mutual homeworld. "Did we really live here?" he asked.

"For our early childhood, yes," Jag replied stiffly. He still hadn't rid himself of the discomfort inflicted upon him by the dream the night before. "We were taken early to the training academy, though, and often shipped off world. But this was always the place designated as home."

The comm crackled and a Chiss voiced exploded from its speakers. "Shuttle _Deviant_, identify your crew and intentions."

"Csillian Control, this is General Jagged Fel of the GFFA and Imperial Remnant. I carry one passenger, my brother Chak Fel, and we are here with the my flagship the _Valorous_ on a strictly personal matter. Family reasons only."

There was a pause. Then, "Instruct the _Valorous_ to retreat to the edge of the system and remain in a strict orbit. Then proceed to these landing coordinates."

A stream of numbers scrolled across his display. "Understood." Quickly he switched frequencies and said in Basic, "Fel to _Valorous_. Retreat to very edge of the system and await further instructions."

"Yes, General."

After weaving his way through the capital ships and battle cruisers, the shuttle finally broke atmosphere. The icy plains glistened wildly in the morning sun, and Jag felt a excited thrill run down his spine at once again being _home_. "I wish Hanna could see this," he said partly to himself.

"Why didn't she and Jaina come?" Chak asked.

Jag chewed his lower lip, searching for an appropriate answer. "The Chiss...well, something happened a long time ago, and the CEDF don't want her here."

Chak threw him a sideways glance. "And these people are our family?"

Jag sighed as he pulled the shuttle in for a landing. "Don't worry. It's not as bad as it sounds." 

The apartment was oddly quiet, unsettling Jaina. Hanna had went to bed over an hour ago, but Jaina remained awake, watching the Holonet. She and Jacen weren't as close as they had been as children, but their bond remained intact enough for her to know his moods when they were on the same planet. And at the moment, her twin was as full of anxiety as she had ever felt him. She expected that any minute now he would be calling...

_And there he is_, she smiled as the comm begin to sound. Bracing her feet and clutching the sides of the sofa, Jaina forced her pregnant girth out of the chair and over to the unit. After flicking a few switches, her brother's haggard face appeared from the shoulders up in front of her. "Jacen," she sighed, feeling like a mother scolding her child.

"She left me," he began without preamble.

Jaina sighed, but the turn of events was not unexpected. They had all seen Jacen's relationship with Danni Quee deteriorate, and it seemed Jacen was the only one who hadn't seen it coming. "Well tell me what happened," she said, more because it would be therapeutic for him than that she wanted to know.

"She wanted to get married this month," he said, expression anguished. "I told her no. And she left."

"Did she just leave, or did she say she was actually breaking up with you?"

"We're over, Jaina," he said, sounding like he himself couldn't believe it.

"Jacen, I really don't understand why you're so upset. I mean, either you want her or you don't. You basically told her you didn't. What's wrong with her wanting to move on?"

"I love her, Jaina," he stated. "I do want her. I'm just afraid." 

"Afraid of what?" she asked softly.

"Of ending up like you."

That set her aback. Jaina blinked a few times, then leaned away from the screen. "What?"

"You know," he said uncomfortably. "Stuck. You tell me all the time how you wish you could have been a fighter pilot, but how you can't because you want Hanna to have a mother like we didn't."

"I do wish I could have lived a little, sometimes," Jaina admitted. "But I love my family. I love my children, and Jag. I don't want to get out of it."

"Jaina, I know all that. That's not what I meant. I'm just saying that I know there are things in life you want to do but can't because you're married with kids. I don't want to sacrifice that."

"Forgive me, but that's a little selfish, Jacen," she said. "You can't have it both ways." 

"I'm selfish?" he scoffed. "I think taking on the responsibility of marriage when you can't commit to or be happy with it is selfish."

More than a little put off, Jaina scowled at the image of her brother. "Is this a pity party or a Jaina-bashing match, I'm a little confused?"

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding sincere. "I'm just so torn up. I don't know what I want."

"Well I suggest you decide, and then do what's right," she told him stiffly. "But I really am sorry about you and Danni. But I'm also tired, and the baby's wanted to go to bed for hours. I'll come by in the morning," she promised.

"Okay," he said reluctantly. Jaina cut the connection irritatedly. How dare he tell her she was unhappy? Maybe she had a tendency to dwell on the what-ifs, but that didn't mean she didn't want her family. No, she loved them all so much.

She supposed the problem was really that she was just beginning to realize what her mother had taken from her. She _wanted_ the life she had, but resented the fact that she had had no choice in it. Even taking care of Hanna wouldn't have been enough to make her resentful, but to have to give up her job and her position in the military to take care of her brother-in-law...it had been a little much. And sitting every day for two years doing just that had been enough to allow her dwell on all the other things she could have done with her life. It was enough to make her feel utterly useless.

Having pulled herself into a weary depression, Jaina unhappily trudged off to bed.


	3. Chapter 3: Ruminations

**Chapter 3: Ruminations**

_The mass of fabric was a deep blue, silky and fine in texture, a sign of good quality. A little puzzled, Jaina gathered it into her arms and pulled it from the box, holding it up for examination. As the identity of the piece of clothing hit her one hand went instantly to her mouth. She had thought it was lost. "Jag," she breathed, the word calling for him to come and see._

As a wedding gift, Grand Admiral Pellaeon had given the Fels the first model of a new class of ship, hot off the Imperial manufacturing lines. Complete with every defensive and offensive weaponry system available—some legal and some not—the IDY-1000 had also been customized to meet the needs of a young couple with a newborn baby to take care of. At the time, Jaina and Jag had been uncertain as to where exactly they would make their permanent home, so everything they owned had promptly been stuffed in the ship's hold for temporary storage.

Now, almost a year later, Jaina had managed to convince Jag to help her come and go through it all, deciding what was actually needed and what could be trashed. Some things, such as the dress she now held tenderly, had been thought lost during the war or left on Csilla during their hasty exit. "What is it?" Jag called from across the room, knee-deep in memories.

"Come look," she said, the sentimentality evident in her voice.

He carefully extracted himself and came to stand beside where she knelt. "Is that..."

"Yeah," she smiled. She stood then, letting the formal gown extend its full length to the floor. "I had thought we left it back on Csilla." 

"You were so beautiful that night," Jag said, in a tone that suggested he still couldn't believe it.

"Your mother bought it for me," she said in a whisper, holding up against her as if to gauge whether or not it would still fit. "You know, it was that night when I first realized I was falling in love with you." 

He smiled, the signature cocky half-grin that most people so often missed. "Me too. I think it was while we were dancing, actually."

Jaina looked up at him in surprise, her brandy eyes wide with shock. "That's why I ran away to the refresher. I realized something was happening right then, and frankly it scared the kriff out of me."

He smiled more broadly, then leaned down to kiss her briefly. "I guess it was just meant to be, then." Then, taking the dress from her hands, "Am I to suppose this is going in the 'keeps' pile?"

She nodded, happy with the remembered time. She had loved him that night, and hadn't stopped since. She supposed the never would.

The baby kicked. Jaina's eyes flew open, her dream scattered into the wispy threads of time and unconsciousness, but leaving the feeling of simplistic joy that had come with youth and love. The feeling didn't mask the reason she had been awoke, the restlessness of her unborn son.

_Hush, child, we have a long time till morning,_ she thought lovingly. Unlike the almost instantaneous naming of Hanna after Jaina's father, she and Jag had been unable to agree upon one for their second child. Not that they had had much time to think about it, either.

But he was incurably fidgety, and Jaina was overcome with the craving for...well, for anything she could get her hands on. Throwing the covers off with only minor irritation, she called her robe to her and wrapped it snugly around her form, then padded into the kitchen. After raiding the refrigeration unit, she sat down on the sofa in the dark with a huge bowl of frozen sugarcream and meditated intensely on how screwed up her life was.

She had been dropped at the age of sixteen into a marriage she didn't want a galaxy away from everything she knew, and had come out of it with a husband she loved, a beautiful daughter, and an unborn son. And an amnesiac brother-in-law.

She loved Chak, she really did. She wanted the best for him possible. And when she had first taken charge of his care when Dr. Banks had sent him home, giving up her military career hadn't been as devastating as it was now. She had stayed home with Hanna most of the time anyway. But as the months wore on, and Jag came home every day talking about squadron development and military breakthroughs, new piloting techniques...it had started to eat at her. It made things worse that he seemed incapable of understanding her frustration, the useless feeling gnawing at her gut.

And then he grew more involved with his work, even as she became absorbed in the menial labor of childcare and housework that didn't suit her personality at all. She had been a general, a warrior, a pilot! What was she doing driving a man almost thirty years old to his psychiatry meetings every day with a four-year-old in the backseat whining for her stuffed animal she had left at home? While her husband lived out his dreams, oblivious to her heartache?

She admitted, if just to herself, that Jag was a lot of the problem. If not because of his ignorance to her feelings then simply because _she missed him_. So many of the reasons they were where they were in life was because they had made decisions to keep them together. She missed the way he used to look at her, and when they both weren't too tired at night to do something other than collapse on the bed with exhaustion.

That was mainly what the move was about. A change of scenery, of schedule, something to rout the mundane routine they had fallen into. Hopefully, Bastion could do that for them.

But could it give her a life back? Could it give her _Jag_ back? Had she even lost him, or had they just lost their way? Jaina hoped and prayed that somehow they could find each other again.

Ismene Banks typed the last of her notes for the day's sessions into her datapad, furiously trying to drive the straying thoughts from her mind and _concentrate_. She had so much to do the next day. They were sending her that new patient from the Coruscant Medical Center, the one who had been hit by a hovertaxi and only remembered the first ten years of his life. And she had to finish filling out Chak's release forms. She should probably send those to Jag...

_Damn it,_ she thought, resisting the urge to throw her datapad. It was no use. No use at all. What the hell was she going to do? She did have a moral standard, after all, it wasn't like she could just do anything she wanted and pretend there were no consequences. If the Corellians were right, she was going straight to the ninth hell. 

She was an idiot, thinking something could come of her feelings anyway, even if he did reciprocate them, which was _highly_ unlikely. The situation was far too complicated, and not to mention the fact it would be wrong on so many levels.

Tiredly she wiped a hand over her eyes and rested her head on her hand. Sometimes she wondered why she even tried to pretend she didn't love him. Wasn't it written all over her? Couldn't everyone see when she was around him? Maybe it would be best to just tell him, get it off her chest.

It wasn't as if there was no reason to love a man like him. He was compassionate, and smart, and witty, and had such a bright future ahead of him. But it was a future with no place for her. She often thought it was her lot in life to die alone.

If only...if only somehow he felt even a glimmer of what she did. Was it possible? Probably not. She was a realist, after all, a trained scientist who knew when the odds were against her. Not that she even planned to lay down a bet. Far from it. She would keep it bottled up as long as possible, until she exploded with love and self-loathing. 

She was such a terrible person. She was terrible to even think about torturing him with the knowledge.

And yet she did. She thought about it every day, of telling him that every fiber of her longed to be held by him, and watch him tell her he had loved her all along, all along. It was a fantasy that could never become fact, but she relished in the dream all the same. Closing her eyes, she could almost hear his words of acceptance, taste the sweetness of his lips...

But it was never to be, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. Sitting up, Ismene straightened her desk and gathered her things, forcing her rigid, strict resolve to keep her dirty little secret just that, a secret. No one ever needed to know that she was utterly, completely, devastatingly in love with Jagged Fel.

The first person Jag saw as he strode down the landing ramp was his mother. At the mere sight of him, even at that distance, he could see her eyes well with tears. And as Chak followed slowly, both hands came up to her mouth, covering her sob. Syal Antilles Fel was much as he remembered her. Maybe a few more lines around her mouth and eyes, a few more gray hairs do more to worry than age. But she still looked like a holostar.

It was the people beside her that Jag had trouble recognizing. The first he knew was Cem, even though it was inconceivable that his little brother could have grown so tall. He wasn't a teenager just coming into his own, anymore; he was a man.

Even more painful was the young woman beside him. And that's what his little sister was. She wasn't a little girl anymore, as was apparent by her height and growth. How old was she now? Fifteen? Sixteen? Whatever it was, it was too old.

He walked slowly, unsure of himself. He hadn't spoken to them in close to a year, even though he thought of them all every day. But his own reunion wasn't the purpose of the trip, he reminded himself; it was about Chak. He turned a confident smile on his brother motioned for him to come closer. Warily, he did.

Syal stopped a meter or two away from her sons, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she might fall apart at any minute. "Mother," Jag smiled, opening his arms to the woman who had made him who he was. She hugged him immediately, fiercely, crying into his jumpsuit with her happiness. He pulled away reluctantly, turning to his siblings.

"Cem," he smiled.

His little brother smile and took Jag's preferred hand. "Welcome home, Jag," he said.

Then Jag turned to his sister, most changed of any of them. She had cut her hair short since he had seen her last, and was decidedly more disciplined in her demeanor. Spine rigid and shoulders squared, he knew she must have already been through the academy's training rigors. "Wyn. You've sure grown up while I've been gone." 

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "It's good to have you back." Then, if a bit reluctantly, she opened her arms in an offered embrace. He hugged her softly, the kind of polite hug he had seen Jaina give to acquaintances at political functions. 

"Jag, aren't you going to introduce us?" Syal asked suddenly, her eyes locked on her lost son.

"Of course," he replied. He came to stand beside Chak, who was decidedly uncomfortable with the whole situation. "Chak, I would like you to meet our family. This is our mother, Syal Antilles Fel. Our brother, Cem Fel. And our sister, Wynssa Fel."

"Hello," he nodded to them each, politely but distantly.

Syal stepped forward, her eyes glistening. "Hello. I am _so_ glad you could come and visit us. I've..." she paused, choking on her emotion. "I've missed you terribly."

Chak scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I have amnesia. It means I can't remember stuff."

Syal smile sadly. "I know. That's okay. You'll remember in time."

He threw Jag an uncertain glance. "Ismene says I probably won't. It's been four years, and I don't remember anything."

She patted his arm in that mother-knows-best way. "I take it Ismene is your doctor? Well, healers have their use, but they don't know everything. Don't give up."

Chak didn't respond, just looked scared of the intense look in his mother's eyes. Jag thought it would probably be best to stop before he was overwhelmed. "Mother, maybe it would be best if we talked about this at home."

Jag had expected to feel elation upon returning to his childhood home, and he was a bit wistful, but the snowy mansion had only a sad feel to it now. His family was there, but they were no longer his family. He had a wife and children on Coruscant, and they were his family. At least, for the moment.

He had the unsettling feeling that Wyn didn't even really remember him. She knew who he was, of course, but he had left when she was very young. And before then, Csilla had been little more than a short stop in between military tours. She probably regarded him as a stranger.

Cem and he had never been close. Soontir and Syal had kept their fourth son a secret from the outside world, he was their shadow child. He hadn't gone to the academy or had any sort of military training, besides that inflicted on him by their father. They were opposite poles of the same magnet, and most of the time Jag had only idly wondered at Cem's peculiar individuality.

Davin had been Jag's friend, his brother in every sense of the word. They had been only fourteen months apart in age, had joined the academy five months apart, been in the same class, the same squadron. Jag had watched him die. It had been the single worst moment in his life. Even though Chak had been his childhood hero, his idol, the pedestal Jag had set him had isolated them from each other. While he and Davin had been close, Chak had taken Cem under his wing.

"Chak, would you like to see your room?" Syal asked as they all came through the door. Syal had never touched or changed anything in the rooms of her children after they died, but kept them as shrines to their memory. Everything in Chak's room would have been exactly as he had left it.

Chak turned to Jag, who nodded. "Okay," Chak agreed reluctantly.

"I'll take you. It's just—"

"Mother," Jag interrupted. "I think it would be best if Chak went by himself."

Chak gave him a thankful look, then turned to go discover who he had been.

The room was messy, clothes strewn over the chair at the single desk and the bed itself. The closet door was still open, a pair of boots at the foot of the bed. A datapad sat on the bedside table along with a reading light and a stack of datacards. The desk was also strewn with datacards, and a holoprojector that switched images every few seconds.

Chak moved towards the desk, watching the images that must have meant something to him, once upon a time. The first was of the woman Jag said was his mother, only younger. From her dress and smile, Chak thought she could have been a holostar. The next was of—was that him? It was, he concluded, a long time ago, as a teenager. He was leaning against the support strut of a clawcraft, smiling broadly. Then there was a small child that could have been Wyn. She was looking up at whoever was taking the holo, blue eyes wide. The following image was of a stern-looking man with black hair and an eye patch. A flight helmet was propped under one arm, and he was climbing the ladder to a TIE fighter. His gaze was reprimanding, tolerant at the least. Then came one with Jag in it, though he was several years younger, no more than sixteen. Another young man stood beside him, blonde with blue eyes and a holostar smile. He and Jag stood side by side in front of a large transparisteel window, arms crossed over their chests, identical minute smiles plastered on their faces. The final picture was a young woman, long black hair and clear blue eyes. She had one eyebrow raised with humorous cynicism, a witty smile lending her aristocratic features a realistic edge. The cycle started over.

He shifted his gaze to the datacards, reading the label on the first one. CORELLIAN FIGHTING TACTICS. Frowning a little, he went to the next one. TIE/CLAWCRAFT INTEGRATION. Obviously, he had been a very militaristic person. And not very interesting.

Laughing it off, he opened one of the desk drawers. Inside was a single object, a medallion hanging on a thick blue ribbon. Gingerly, Chak picked it up and turned it over, laying it face up in his palm. On its surface was engraved the cross-section of a clawcraft, and written around the edge were the words 'Presented to Commander Chak Fel, warrior of the Hand, for extraordinary bravery and valor at the Battle of Presgon'. 

With a sudden sharp pain to his temple, his vision constricted into a tunnel that reminded Chak of jumping to hyperspace. A flash of alien words and red eyes assaulted him. He was kneeling, blue hands hung the ribbon and medal around his neck, the weight was heavy, noise—

He returned to the present, only he was now on his knees there too, clutching the desk tightly in one hand and the ribbon in the other. He blinked a few times, unsure of what had happened. It had been many times faster than reality, confused, random, jumbled. But—could it have been a memory, a memory of his past?

He didn't know. Looking at the metal once again, he now felt a much greater affection for the thing, if only because it could have sparked the beginning of his road to recovery. Hurriedly, he tucked it into his back pocket and stood. Until he knew for certain, he wouldn't bother or excite Jag with the news. He would bide his time, and wait and see.

"How is he?" Syal asked as soon as Chak was out of earshot.

"Health wise? He's completely recovered. But he doesn't remember anything. The person we knew is completely gone," Jag answered straightforwardly.

Syal looked devastated, but it was Cem who spoke next. "Is there any trace of our brother? The way he acts, is his personality the same?"

Jag considered the question carefully before answering. "Sometimes, he'll say something that's so characteristically _him_ it gives me chill bumps. Or he'll give you one of those looks, the one he always gave us when he caught us doing something wrong. But the man we knew had been shaped by years of hard edged training, years of battle and commanding troops, of responsibility. He doesn't remember any of that now. He's much more innocent and naive, even child-like at times. It will be a very long time before he regains the experiences he's lost."

Cem stared at the floor, his expression an emotionless mask, covering his despair. Wyn laid a comforting hand on his shoulder but remained silent.

"Why did you bring him here, Jag?" Syal asked suddenly. "You've had four years to bring him home to visit. Why now?"

Jag took a deep breath and suppressed a wince. "He was just released from his therapist's custody. And he still doesn't even have a trace of memory. Jaina and I thought this place, his home, might trigger some sort of memory that Coruscant wouldn't. I haven't told him yet, but I'm hoping to stay a few days, and when I leave convince him to stay here with you for a while."

For a moment, he thought she might cry again. "I couldn't imagine anything better than having my baby home again," she whispered finally.

"Mom, did you call Dad yet?" Wyn said suddenly. 

Jag looked at Syal in confusion, and she explained. "Because we didn't know you were coming, we didn't have to time call Soontir and tell him you had arrived. We weren't positive who you had brought with you, either," she added darkly.

Jag nodded slowly in understanding. If he had brought Jaina, it might have been better to keep her presence a secret. Even though he had no personal vendetta against her, Soontir might feel obligated to turn her in. "Speaking of," she continued a little more brightly, "why didn't you bring my granddaughter? I've never even seen the dear child. And you're about to have another one!"

"I'm sorry. Hanna needs her mother, and besides, I'm sure the Four Families won't be happy when they realize I'm here. She doesn't need to be here in the middle of it. And Jaina definitely doesn't, especially in her condition." 

"How close to term is she?" Syal asked eagerly.

"Two more months," he told her.

Chak emerged suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, looking pale and nervous. "Chak, are you okay?" he asked.

He nodded, smiling falsely, and handed him a small holoprojector. "This was on the desk. Who are those people?"

Jag watched images flash by, each one making him relive a different painful memory. "That first one is of Mother. Then there's you...and that's Wyn as a baby. And that is our father. Then this...this is me...and our brother Davin. He died shortly before you disappeared. And that is our other sister, Cherith. She was killed a few months later."

He nodded, taking the device back and switching it off. "Just curious. Is it time to eat yet?" 


	4. Chapter 4: Picking up the Pieces

**Chapter 4: Picking up the Pieces**

The crash of breaking glass and tiny running feet made Jaina want to smile and grimace at the same time. "Hanna?" she called leadingly, not rising from her chair.

There was no answer.

Sighing, she pulled herself with marginal difficulty out of the chair and back towards the hallway. There stood Hanna, wide-eyed, over the remains of what had once been a vase with flowers. Shards of it lay scattered across the floor, in the midst of water and petals. Jaina crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted suddenly. "I didn't mean it!"

Jaina nodded, resisting the urge to smile. It had been a hideous piece of work, a present from her mother at her wedding, and she was almost relieved to have an excuse to trash the thing. But Hanna didn't need to know that. All she needed to know was that she had broke something of Mommy's, and needed to face the consequences, however lenient they may be. After a few minutes when Jaina didn't say anything, Hanna added cleverly, "You know Mommy, anger is of the Dark Side."

Unable to hold in her laughter, Jaina cracked a huge grin and giggled openly. And all she could think of was that she couldn't wait till Jag called so she could tell him.

"I'm not mad, Hanna. Help me clean this up, then go get dressed. We need to go visit Uncle Jacen."

When she arrived at Jacen's apartment, Jaina knew immediately it was worse than she had thought. From the looks of things, he had slept on the couch and hadn't eaten a thing, nor tended to personal needs like showering and shaving. "Hanna, go play out on the patio while I talk to Uncle Jacen."

Jacen looked up at her from where he lay, eyes open in slits. "Whaddaya want, Jaina?"

"I told you I would come by and check on you this morning," she said as she ripped the blanket off his prostrate form.

"Hey!"

"And so I'm here. Come on, get up Jacen, life isn't all bad. You've got what you wanted anyway, don't you? Your freedom? Come on, there's somebody out there who's just as uncommitted and lazy as you. And the two of you can live happily ever after, until one of you decides the relationship's too good and you better break up before you get too happy." As she spoke she switched on the lights and used the Force to flip him off the sofa onto the floor.

He hit the floor with a grunt, then rolled onto his back to look at her. "I'd be a little more compassionate if you had just lost Jag."

"I did almost lose Jag, remember? Tiras? And you were the one who told me not to get upset and to bide my time and hear him out. And since you're the one who ruined this relationship, I'm telling you to suck it up and deal with the consequences of your actions."

Grumbling, he rose onto his haunches and rested his elbows on his knees, head in hands. "What am I going to do without her, Jaina?"

In a softer, more compassionate tone she told him, "You're going to pick up the pieces and I'm going to help you put them back together, until you're a whole, complete person again. And eventually it'll get easier to breathe, and then smile, and soon enough laugh. And then, some day, you'll meet a girl who is exactly what you need and want, and this will only be one experience that helped make you who you are. And you'll be grateful for the time you had with Danni and the fact that loving her made you understand love better, and be a better partner for the woman you were meant for."

Eyes watery, he nodded in acceptance of her appraisal. She extended one hand to him and he took it, letting her pull him to his feet. "You once said to me, 'why do you insist on always setting me back on my feet again, right when I want to wallow in my sorrow?'."

Jaina smiled at the memory. "And you said, 'that's what twins are for'." 

Pulling her into a hug, he said, "Thanks, Jaina. I love you."

"I love you, too. Now go take a shower while I fix you breakfast. You smell like you slept with a bantha."

"She's just beautiful, Jag," Syal said as she watched the still holo of her granddaughter.

Jag smiled in agreement. "We think so." He looked up to find her staring hard at him, and he knew immediately that something important was on her mind.

"How is Jaina doing, Jag?"

He took a long, slow breath, wondering how he should answer her. It would be futile to lie, he decided finally. She knew him too well, even after all these years. "She's unhappy, Mother."

They were alone in the Study, after Cem had offered to take Chak around the city, show him the sites. To Jag it was perfect. If Chak made friends with their other brother, things would go a lot easier when Jag told Chak of his intentions to leave him on Csilla. Wyn had been called back into the town on squadron business, and Soontir was on his way back to the mansion.

Syal nodded in a way that made him think she had known all along. "Go ahead. Tell me."

He sighed wearily, running a hand over his face. "Things started getting really rough about a year ago. I think she's tired of sitting at home all the time. She always wanted to fly, and she never really got to do that. She never got to do a lot of things, and it bothers her. And, I don't know, I guess I just don't really understand. She _volunteered_ to stay home with Hanna, and then with Chak. That's what she wanted. Sometimes I think that maybe it's not them that bothers her...maybe its me. Maybe she doesn't want _me_ anymore. I know that she wants _something_ different. And why not me? We hardly even see each other any more, who would blame her for falling out of love with me?"

"Jag," Syal interrupted seriously, "do you love her still? Is she what you want?"

He nodded unhesitatingly. "I love her as much as I always have. I know that. I just wonder sometimes..._why_? Do I only love her because we're married? If she was a complete stranger and we met for the first time, would I love her now? I know that a life with her is what I want. I just think that we both need to remember why we fell in love in the first place."

"Talk is well and good, Jagged," she told him seriously, "but telling me this isn't going to change anything. When you go home to her, make time to find out. Work can wait. Spend time with her and remind yourself why you chose her above all other women in the galaxy."

He smiled, wondering how all infinite wisdom could be contained in that little woman. "You always have the right answer."

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could they heard the front door blow open and the whistle of wind and snow. "That's Soontir," she said instead, rising and walking to the door. "Let's go greet him."

Jag hesitated. "Is he still angry that I defected to the Empire?"

She pursed her lips together ambiguously. "He wasn't happy. But let us hope that having Chak home will distract him, at least for the moment."

Cem was quiet, even more so than Jag, Chak noticed. Every once and a while he would catch him staring at him, which was a little disconcerting, but overall he seemed amiable enough. "Do you see that apartment building there?" Cem asked suddenly, veering out of the traffic lane and slowing down. It was a large place, elegant architecture with a vintage style. "That's where Jag and Jaina lived when they first got married. But Dad sold it after they left."

Chak frowned slightly, confused. "Jag and Jaina used to live here?"

"Yeah."

"I thought Jag left Csilla a long time before he got married," he told Cem.

Cem looked at him sideways, raising one curious brow. "They didn't tell you. Did they?"

"Tell me what?" Chak asked, starting to become confused.

"Not that I blame them," Cem continued, pulling back into the traffic lanes. "I wouldn't advertise it either."

"Advertise what?" Chak pressed.

"I guess it's been about five years now. The New Republic and the Chiss had been on really bad terms for years. If something didn't break soon, there might have been war. I don't know what happened on their end, but the Four Families decided that we should do what aristocrats here always do: marry off one of their own to insure trust and compliance. They knew whoever the new republic picked might not want to marry an alien, so they recruited Jag. Mother was devastated, and Jag didn't talk to anyone for a week. Then one day Jaina shows up, and they were married two days later." 

Chak was silent, not sure what to think about what he had just heard. Jaina and Jag had the sort of relationship that wasn't on exhibition, preferring to display most of their affection in private. But he had always thought that they loved each other. He could see it in their eyes, and they way both of them became animated when they spoke about the other. But from the description Cem was giving him, perhaps things were different than they seemed. "That's...an interesting tale. Is it true?"

"Of course it is," Cem told him. "You can ask him."

"Maybe I will." 

"Listen, Chak. I know you don't remember me. You don't remember anything, really. But I remember you, and all the fun times we had when I was a kid. And it'll never be like it was, but I want to have that back again. I want to have the same friendship with you that Jag does, because no matter what, you're my brother and I love you."

If Chak had been uncomfortable before, he was really uncomfortable then. "What are you getting at?"

His brother took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "What would you say if I asked you to stay here on Csilla for a while? Not just for me, but for Mom and Dad and Wyn, too. Mom especially. She remembers you as her baby, and it almost killed her when you 'died'. To have you back would mean so much to her. And, I know, this all probably scares you a little bit, and I don't want to be pushy. I just want you to get to know us, if only for a little while."

Chak scratched the back of his head nervously. He barely knew this guy, and he was telling him all these confusing things. He understood that things had happened in the past that meant a lot to Cem that Chak couldn't recall. But his new 'family' seemed to genuinely care for him. He knew that they would be crushed if he turned them down, even though that's exactly what he wanted to do. "I should talk to Jag first," he told him carefully, diplomatically.

"Jag already knows," Cem told him. "If you want to stay, he'll let you."

Chak was starting to panic. He didn't _want_ to stay. He wanted to go back to Coruscant and keep the safe life that he had.

"You can leave any time you want," Cem told him. "Just stay for a while, give us a chance."

Chak looked out the window, weighing his options. Finally he said, "Can I think about it a while?"

"Take as long as you need."

Jaina had fixed her brother breakfast, then hung around till lunch, when Anakin came. Leaving him to stay with their heartbroken sibling for a while, she took Hanna out to lunch, then returned to the apartment, hoping Jag had called. He hadn't.

"Mommy," Hanna began thoughtfully as she sat at the table drawing while Jaina washed dishes, "why did Uncle Chak have to leave?"

"Well," Jaina began, "he doesn't remember anything about his life before we rescued him."

"I know _that_," Hanna said in a sarcastic voice that was oh-too-cute on a four year old.

Smiling, Jaina continued. "And we really want him to get better. Don't we?" 

"Yep!" she smiled.

"Now, Uncle Chak had never been on Coruscant before we rescued him. So we thought it would be good to send him to a place where he _had_ memories. A place that he _could_ remember, even if he didn't."

"Oh," she said, continuing to scribble on the flimsiplast. "I'll miss him."

"Me too," Jaina said a bit sadly. "But he's just visiting. He'll be back."

"Look!" she exclaimed suddenly, holding up the flimsi proudly. "I drew you a picture, Mommy."

"Oh, let me see!" Jaina squealed in the voice that was only acquired after years of motherhood.

The drawing was basically a large circle with dots for eyes and nose and a huge smile. Attached directly to the circle were two sticks with appendages on the end she supposed were feet. A swirly mass of brown was set directly atop the circle. "Mommy, it's you!" Hanna smiled.

Jaina looked down at her, and for a moment she looked so much like her father Jaina couldn't believe it. "I know, it looks _just_ like me," Jaina told her, running a hand through her jet black hair. "Thank you, sweetie. This one if going on the refrigeration unit."

The doorbell rang. Jaina finished taping the picture to the unit, then padded uncomfortably to the door. This second baby was a lot more uncomfortable than the first. On the other side was one of the last people she had expected to see. "Dr. Banks," she smiled.

Ismene smiled gently in return. "Hello, Jaina. I just stopped by to give you all Chak's final release papers. I forgot to give them to Jag the other day." 

"Well, I'm sorry, but both Chak and Jag aren't here. They went to Csilla to visit family," Jaina told her.

"Oh," she replied, looking more disappointed than she should under the circumstances. "Well, that's fine, you can just keep it and have them sign it when they get back. Then bring a copy to me, and everything will be all set."

"Okay," Jaina said, observing the papers with a tinge of a frown. She didn't know what, but something wasn't quite..._right_. A tiny twinge in the Force, and that was all. "But Chak probably won't be home for quite some time. Jag was going to let him stay for a while."

Ismene scowled. "I wasn't told, nor did I authorize that. And I'm not sure I would have."

Jaina's frown deepened. "If you've released him, then we don't need your authorization for anything. And I'm not completely sure it would have mattered what you authorized." 

The other woman looked shocked, her eyebrows raising slightly. "I am sorry if I've offended you. It wasn't my intention. I was only concerned for Chak's wellbeing. Please, just when they both have signed it just bring a copy back to me." With that she turned and left.

Jaina continued to frown after her. Then she shut the door and went back inside, still not sure what had upset her so. Maybe it was just the hormones.


	5. Chapter 5: Disrepute

**Chapter 5: Disrepute **

"Jagged."

The word was tinged with a caustic flavor, as if the taste of it made his mouth bitter, spoken haltingly like an expression rather than a name. Jag raised his chin slightly and squared his shoulders, much as he had as an officer under the former baron. His pulse increased slightly, and he repressed a grimace. Things hadn't changed much. Soontir could still set him on edge more than any other being in the galaxy. 

"Father," he returned, carefully removing any inflection from his voice that would reveal emotion.

The big man shrugged off his parka and hung it on a rack, avoiding the gaze of his wife and son. Then finally he said, "Did you bring my granddaughter?"

"No," Jag answered shortly. "But Chak's here."

He looked up then, eyes locking with his Jag, then Syal. "Where?" he said simply.

"He's with Cem," Syal explained, going to him and placing a kiss on his cheek. "They went into the city."

Soontir nodded, his one eye returning to Jag. The younger man automatically stiffened under the scrutiny. "How is he?"

"He doesn't remember anything before he disappeared. It's all gone. You'll be a complete stranger to him. We all are," Jag explained.

"Let's go in the kitchen," Syal suggested suddenly. Neither man contradicted her, but followed her lead. "Are you hungry, Dear?" she asked Soontir as they took a seat at the table.

"No, thank you," he answered. "So, Jag," he began, and Jag steeled himself for what he had been anticipating all along. "I heard Pellaeon dumped you back on the Rebellion."

A muscle in his cheek twitched, but other than that he remained stoic. "No, I'm still an Imperial. I'm just serving ambassadorial purposes right now on Coruscant."

Soontir shook his head slowly, as if in disbelief. "I'll never understand why you left us."

Under the table, Jag's hands clenched into fists. "I left because I had no choice. They exiled Jaina, remember?"

Soontir waved it off. "That was no reason for you to defect. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for us? After that whole arranged marriage fodder we had to put up with? All for nothing."

"_You_ had to put up with?" Jag asked, incredulous. "_I_ was the one who had my life ripped out from under me. And Jaina's my _wife_, I'd be the biggest fool in the universe if I let a job come in between us."

The import of his own words struck him like a hydrospanner between the eyes. That was exactly what he had done. Sure, it wasn't all his fault, probably not even mostly his fault, but he had contributed. He had disregarded her feelings and let himself be buried in the pressures and responsibilities heaped on him by Bastion. Part of that had been for her, to provide for her and their children, but a lot of it was just his desire to complete everything he did to the very best of his ability. It was part of his nature, the drive to overcome obstacles and drag himself to the top. It was how he had become the pilot he was.

Jaina's desire to turn back time and regain all the things she had lost was certainly a key issue, but he hadn't helped matters.

"Was she so important to you that you needed to throw away everything you had ever accomplished?" Soontir questioned.

"Yes," he answered immediately.

The Syndic continued to stare with his one eye, examining Jag critically. Jag remained staunch in his words and beliefs, unwavering in his faith that what he had done had been the best course under the circumstances. He had been young and in love, and more than a little desperate. He had been left with few options, and none of them good. He could abandon Jaina and his fledgling marriage and continue his career with the CEDF, they could live separate lives—one on Coruscant and one on Csilla—or he could defect to the Empire. They had defected, both of them. And it had been one of the best decisions of his life.

All during the conversation Syal sat silently, holding her cup of steaming caf in a death grip and watching them with wide eyes. Whatever thoughts she might have on the matter were kept to herself, and Jag knew that neither man would ever pull a straight answer from her. She wouldn't take sides.

Finally Soontir sighed and said, "If she meant that much to you, then you did the honorable thing."

Shocked speechless, Jag just stared. He had never suspected any reaction from his father to be even remotely supportive. "What?" he managed at last.

"I was in the same position you were once, and I made the same choice. I can hardly fault you for that, even if I wish things could have been different. You had such potential, Jagged. I was proud of you. I think when you left I was more disappointed than anything," Soontir explained.

Syal smiled broadly and reached out to clasp her husband's hand in both her own, his far outsizing hers. "Thank you, thank both of you. I don't want my son's first memory of us to be filled with strife."

As if ushered by her words, the front door opened and closed, signaling the return of their other two sons. "Come on," Jag told them both, standing. "I want to see what Chak has to say about Csilla."

When they entered the living quarters Jag knew immediately that something had happened. Cem was restless and tense, while Chak was grim and pale. "Is everything okay?" he asked Chak quietly.

"Yeah," he answered quickly. "I just need to talk to you about something. Later." 

"Fine," Jag said with a tinge of a frown. "But first I want you to meet someone. This is Assistant Syndic Soontir Fel, our father."

Chak only smiled courteously as he had when meeting the rest of their family, but Soontir looked so tense Jag wondered if he might crack like a broken statue. He noted the small beads of sweat on his forehead, almost as foreign as the grateful expression that verged on teary. "Hello," he said a bit gruffly, his voice deep with emotion.

"Hi," Chak answered. "I'm glad to meet you."

"I have waited for a very long time to see you again," Soontir replied.

"I've asked Chak to stay with us," Cem blurted suddenly. They all turned to look at him. "I told him it would be fine with you, Jag," Cem said carefully, locking eyes with his older brother.

Jag turned to look at Chak. He stared at his feet uncertainly, the conflict evident on his face. "I think," Jag told them slowly, "that if that's what Chak wants, it would be good for him." Then facing his brother, "They are as much family to you as I am. They deserve a chance, and so do you. And being here might be good for your memory, too." 

Chak looked up and met his eyes, the painful resolution clearly there. "Okay," he ground out finally. "For a while." 

Jag smiled with relief. Cem had made the moment a lot easier on him than he had ever hoped. Now he could leave Chak on Csilla with much less guilt than before. "I think that's a very wise decision, Chak."

Before anyone could say anything else Syal had fallen prey to her desire all along and pulled her son into a tearful embrace, holding him so tight Jag wondered how he would get loose. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for coming home to me," she whispered, weeping into his shirt.

Tentatively, he patted her back comfortingly, pitying her. He couldn't remember her, but he was smart enough to understand that he had just restored a mother's joy. He only wished he could be what they wanted him to be.

The plan was complicated, and too open for mistakes; at least, in Varen's opinion. Certain variables had to fall into place at exactly the right time, and any inconsistency could prove fatal. Success was imperative. So to further guarantee the fulfillment of his wishes, Varen briefed his soldier/spies personally.

"You're sole and exclusive purpose is to secure the illusion that the New Republic made no move to attack. We've equipped your fighters with a specifically designed covert laser cannon. The beam is invisible, so on the recordings nothing will show up. It will prove explicitly that the New Republic made no aggressive action until fired upon. _Make sure_ that you fire on another snubfighter. This will make further hostilities easier to manipulate. Once those snubfighters—they'll probably be TIEs—return fire, open all guns and antagonize as much as you can. Do you all understand? Those are your explicit and exact orders, and any deviation from them will be severely punished." 

One of the three, the eldest, raised his hand. His name was Rant Las, a burly fellow with an unattractive face and a death sentence in five systems. He would have made a fine employee some day. It was a pity Varen would have to kill him. "What?" Varen snapped.

"How do we know that our target will actually find us? Or that the Republic cruiser will actually stop at that point in space?"

"There are several hyperspace lanes in and out of the Unknown Regions to Csilla. But one will get you to Coruscant in half the time. We know that the _Valorous_ will be traveling that way. The New Republic convoy you will be a part of has an interdictor. I have other agents that will sabotage the hyperdrive. The interdictor will be sabotaged by a different source, and when the convoy pulls out of hyperspace it will be activated, which will draw the _Valorous_ from hyperspace as well," Varen explained. "The Captain is young and inexperienced. Not only will he be eager to prove himself, but will be easily slaughtered."

Las nodded, accepting his answer. Anything less could mean death. Varen dismissed them all then with a nod, sending them on their way with everything, equipment and knowledge, that they would need.

He was so close, so close to ridding himself of the thorn in his side. Once his endeavor was complete, he would never need to worry about his secret being disclosed to the wrong ears again. The real beauty of it was that it was all about the set up. The end result was not death, but something much more cruel and effective. Something much more suited to his style.  
The goodbye was gloomy and depressing, making Jag question for the hundredth time whether or not he was doing the right thing. Perhaps Chak wasn't ready to be sent out on his own. Well, he wasn't on his own, but he wasn't at home either. It was still up for debate in his mind, and the only thing that kept him tethered to the plan was his need to make things right with Jaina. That would be a lot easier to do without Chak, as callous as it sounded.

"Remember: I'll always be there for you. If you need anything, _anything_, don't hesitate to call us. And when you want to come home, just let us know," Jag told him, just loud enough for him to hear and not the rest of the family.

Chak looked nervous and melancholy, reminding Jag of how Hanna had looked the first time he and Jaina had left her for a week to attend a weapons design conference on Bastion. They had ended up coming home early, neither of them able to hold up under the guilt. "I'll be fine," he replied, contradicting his outward appearance. To back it up he gave a weak smile. "They're family, too, after all." 

"That's right," Jag smiled. "They love you, Chak. And you will them, eventually. Just give it some time."

"I will," he promised. "Tell Jaina and Hanna I said hi. And I miss them."

"Okay," he returned. Then turning to the rest of his family, "Take care of yourselves, everyone."

"Give Jaina and Hanna our love," Syal told him, looking bleary-eyed. "And come back soon."

"I'll do the best I can," he assured her. Turning to his father he said, "Father, I'm glad we managed to resolve our differences. I don't want to be estranged from any of you."

"Just remember where you came from," Soontir said.

"How could I forget?" he smirked. "Wyn, take care of yourself, and I wish you clear skies."

"Thanks, Jag," she smiled.

"Cem," he sighed, smiling gently. "Take care of our brother for me."

"Don't worry," he grinned. "We'll be fine."

Unsure of whether or not he could take any more of the disconsolate atmosphere without reneging on his decision, he turned boarded the shuttle that would take him to the _Valorous_, and then home to his family.

Ordin Cande felt the _Valorous_ jolt and buck under his feet, the last thing a person wants to feel while you should be in hyperspace. A young aide tripped and stumbled beside him, and reached out to steady her. She thanked him in passing and continued on her way. About that time a clipped voice announced over the address system, "All pilots report to their fighters. Repeat, all squadrons, report to your fighters."

_Great_, he thought breaking into a jog. He had just got off his shift and was preparing for his standard field nap, and now he had to go straight back from where he had come. And to top it off, there probably wasn't anything wrong.

Still, everyone seemed excited over something as he entered the hangar. People were and pulling on helmets and zipping up flight suits even as they scrambled into their TIEs. Cande climbed the access ladder nimbly, wondering if perhaps he had been wrong and there was cause for concern. As he settled into the spherical cockpit and started the preflight, he hit the comm and said, "Blue Five, any idea what all the fuss is about?"

"An interdictor pulled us out of hyperspace," his wingmate answered, a surly middle-aged woman who used to be a CorSec officer. "But I'm pretty sure its still precautionary on the General's part; from what I've heard I think it's just a Republic cruiser with a hyperdrive malfunction." 

Cande nodded, accepting the information as fact. It made sense, and it was the option that would get him back to his field nap the quickest.

He finished his preflight and waited for Blue Squadron's clearance, then toggled the repulsorlifts and glided out of the hangar. Outside the _Valorous_ was a cruiser all right, medium sized and bulging on one side with an interdictor tethered to its flank. Already launching from its bay was a flight of Y-wings, and behind them a squad of X-wings.

Cande wasn't worried. General Fel would be straightening everything out with the captain of the cruiser, and soon they would be back inside the hangar and he would be on his way to the barracks.

"What's happened?" Jag demanded of his second-in-command. Instead of the beautiful blue vortex of hyperspace, the view out of the bridge was the distorted lines that even as he watched straightened and condensed into stars. And further out was the last thing he had expected to see leaving Chiss space: a GFFA battleship.

Dismissing his own question, he told the communications officers down in the crew pit, "Open up the comm channels and get me whoever is supposed to be in charge of that ship."

"Yes, Sir," one answered, hunching over his controls.

"General, shall I launch our fighters?" his second-in-command asked.

Jag mulled it over for a few seconds, then said, "No, I don't think it's necessary. There shouldn't be any hostilities, we're on the same side now after all."

"Sir, with all due respect, the New Republic isn't authorized to have any personnel in this area. It's strictly Imperial Space."

"We're all the Galactic Alliance now, remember?" Jag said with a tinge of humor. "I don't think there's any call for concern."

"It's still under our jurisdiction. Just as a precautionary measure, General?" the commander pressed.

Jag shrugged, then nodded in acquiescence. "Fine. Give the order."

"General," the comm officer interrupted. "We have Captain Petreum on the line."

"Patch him through," Jag ordered, swiveling in his command chair to face the holoprojector. A blue-tinged image of a man that looked more like a kid playing army than an officer appeared in front of him. "Captain Petreum, I presume," Jag began without preamble.

"That's correct. And who, may I ask, are you, and what is your business here?"

"I'm General Jagged Fel of the Imperial Navy and ambassador to the GFFA, and this is my flagship, the _Valorous_. You are trespassing in Imperial territory, Captain, and you've interfered in my route to Coruscant. Please deactivate your interdictor and return to authorized areas, or I'll be forced to extract you." They were words and that was all, no real threat behind them. All he wanted was a clear path back to Coruscant. But it was his duty to the Empire to enforce trafficking laws, and he doubted the kid could be reasoned into making a speedy exit, so the best tactic would be to scare him off.

Petreum stiffened, his scrawny frame looking even smaller under the oversized uniform. "I assure you, General, we will depart as soon as—"

"General!" a crewer said suddenly, clutching his earpiece. "Sir, Blue Squadron reports an assualt! We're being fired upon, Sir! They're requesting permission to defend themselves."

Jag turned angrily to the holoprojector. "What's the meaning of this?"

Petreum looked unapologetic. "What are you talking about?"

"Sir?" the control officer pressed.

"Recall your fighters!" Jag demanded.

"General, Blue Squadron is now engaged with the New Republic forces and requesting aid," the control officer continued.

"Casualties?" Jag asked.

"One," he replied. "Ours."

Jag felt a surge of anger flare inside him. The little fool had had the audacity to _kill_ one of his men, unprovoked. His insolence had resulted in the loss of an innocent pilot. That was not to be tolerated, under any circumstances. "Captain, if you don't recall your fighters right now—"

"You're attacking us!" Petreum shouted, sounding surprised. "What are you doing? Back off!"

"_You_ back off!" Jag returned. The nerve of that kid! "Now, Captain." 

The whelp seemed to swell with obstinate pride, puffing out his chest. As if completely disregarding the insane quality of his actions he said to someone outside the projector's range, "Fight them off. Show the Imperial scum that we don't condone unprovoked harassment."

"Idiot," Jag spat, and cut the connection. "Open the forward batteries. Fire at will."

Cande fell easily into a simply squadron formation, roughly triangular with Blue One flying point. His wingmate slid into formation in front of him, filling in the last gap. "Just patrolling, Blues. No aggressive action, and that's an order," Lead said over the comm. Cande double clicked in acknowledgment.

They were making their second pass across the informal line that had been drawn between the two forces when it happened. At first Cande thought he had run into some sort of debris, but as he was hit a second time the TIE's port solar panel snapped, spinning him in an uncontrolled corkscrew away from his squadron. Slapping the comm he gasped from the inertia, "I'm hit!" Fighting the control yoke for dominance, he managed to at least pull the TIE into a wobbly but manageable flight path.

"Cande, are you all right?" Blue Five asked. 

"I'm leaking atmosphere," he grunted, scanning his instruments.

"Go EV," she told him.

"Not yet," he ground out. It was only then he noticed the rest of the chatter over other frequencies. Blue Squadron had crossed the line from defensive to offensive, harrying the new Republic snubfighters back towards the cruiser, but still not firing.

He felt his flightsuit pressurize itself as the cockpit's oxygen levels dropped below a healthy level. But almost immediately it began to beep, telling him something was obstructing his backup air supply. Spots began to dance in front of his eyes. He punched the comm and tried to gargle out a call for help, but his throat constricted and then froze as the unbearable cold of the vacuum seeped into his blood. Limbs frozen stiff and useless, his vision winked out and pulse stopped, leaving the TIE dead in space.

"Daddy!" 

Jag smiled broadly, dropping to one knee and opening his arms. Hanna threw herself into them with the force of a concussion grenade, almost knocking his backwards. He laughed and stood with her in his arms, holding her close. After the trip he had had, it was fabulous to be back where things made sense. "Hello, princess. Am I happy to see you."

She pulled back and smiled, pointing at her mouth. "Look Daddy, I lost a tooth!"

Just as she said, a small gap between her teeth could be seen. "Hanna, that's wonderful."

"Hello, Jag."

He lucked up to see his wife, even more pregnant than the last time he had seen her. She was smiling down at them both, hands folded across her stomach. And Jag had never seen anything more beautiful. He stood slowly, never breaking eye contact. Then he pulled her into his arms and held her close, reveling in the fabulous feeling just being around her gave him. He would make things right, if it was the last thing he ever did. After kissing him quickly she said, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. All three of you," he whispered. "Jaina, I've been thinking."

"Me too," she agreed.

"And we really need to talk," he continued.

"I know. Let's go back to—"

"General Fel?"

They both turned to see five New Republic security officers approaching them. After arriving back at Coruscant Jag had been shuttled to the GFFA Star Destroyer _Rebel Dream_ to give what intel he could about Csillian relations towards the New Republic. Jaina had met him as he debarked, before the debriefing.

"Yes?" Jag asked.

They said nothing, simply grabbed his wrists and pulled them behind his back, clamping him in binders before any of them knew what had happened. "You are hereby under arrest for treason against the New Republic and Galactic Federation of Free Alliances."

"What's going on?" Jaina demanded, alarmed. Hanna, eyes wide, moved to stand by her leg. "This has to be a mistake."

"Are you sure you have the right man?" Jag asked, confused and trying to remain calm.

"If you're General Jagged fel I do."

Jaina looked at him pleadingly, on the verge of panic. "Jag, what are they talking about?"

"I don't know," he told her. Then soothingly, "Don't worry about it, this has to be a misunderstanding. I'll be home by dinner." 


	6. Chapter 6: Test of Faith

**Chapter 6: Test of Faith**

Jaina fought hard to keep the tears from her eyes, but couldn't quite manage it. They streamed down her face like rivers, falling off her chin and staining her shirt. She didn't care.

"Mommy," Hanna asked softly, as if she was afraid to speak.

Jaina looked down at her daughter, who was struggling to keep up with her anxious adult strides. She made and effort to slow down. "Yes, Hanna?" she asked, forcing her voice to be steady and strong for her child. _Their_ child. 

"Mommy," she repeated, this time a slight tremor to the word, "why are you crying? Why did those men take Daddy away?" 

Jaina squeezed her tiny hand as another set of tears slipped out of her eyes. Not sure how to comfort her, she lifted her into her arms and carried her the rest of the way to the turbolift. An ensign tried to catch a ride to the hangar with them, but Jaina shooed him away. They didn't need an audience. "Hanna," she began quietly, "there are some really important things Mommy has to take care of. I need you to be a very, very good girl the next few hours, okay? Can you do that for me?"

She nodded, burying her wet face in Jaina's neck. But soon the weight became too much for Jaina's pregnant body to carry, and she was forced to set her back on her own two feet. The turbolift door opened suddenly, and Jaina strode through, pulling Hanna along. Her ship—_their_ ship—stood out in stark contrast to the TIE fighters, it's sleek silver hull gleaming and polished. The _Always_, Jag had named it.

Jaina blinked, unwilling to shed another useless tear. Did she really know it was that bad? Maybe Jag was right, it was all a misunderstanding. And maybe it wasn't.

What if, just what if the man she loved had betrayed the New Republic? Wasn't it a big coincidence, when he had just returned from the Chiss Ascendancy, the place where his family all lived? Perhaps they had convince him to defect, again. Perhaps that was what he had wanted to talk to her about, not their failing marriage.

No. She wouldn't think that, not ever again. She had been close to a lot of people in her life, including a twin brother, but there was no one that she knew better than Jagged Fel. He loved her, loved Hanna and their unborn son. No matter what his parents might have said, he wouldn't do that to them. He just wouldn't.

Resolutely she wiped away the last of her tears as she strapped Hanna into the booster seat behind the pilot's chair. She would get to the bottom of this. And luckily for her, she knew just how.

She lifted out of the hangar without waiting for clearance, heading straight for Coruscant's senatorial district. Flying calmed her down a bit, as it always had. It had been her escape for as long as she could remember. Even though she had been raised by Luke Skywalker, a pilot in his own right, she knew the love for deep space and pilot's yoke was her father's legacy. She had spent most of her life resenting Han Solo, and only now, years after his death, did she realize how much like him she really was.

She cast a glance over her shoulder at Hanna, who was swinging her legs aimlessly and watching the ships in the spacelanes around them. That wouldn't happen to her baby. She would know who her parents were, how much they loved her. This new problem, it threatened that. Only another reason she would crush it like a snake in its egg, before it could be born in truth.

Once she broke atmosphere Jaina flicked the comm switch and began hailing her brother. She started to call Jacen, but he had enough problems. In the end, it was Anakin who answered. "Jaina?" he asked immediately, seeing the nervous lines in her face. Even as he spoke she felt him reach out in the Force, trying to soothe whatever affliction she was under. Bright blue eyes peered out from under shaggy brown hair, his handsome features completely matured, now nineteen years of age.

"I have a problem, Ani," she began without preamble. "Can you meet me at Uncle Luke's landing pad? I need someone to babysit Hanna." 

"Yeah, sure," he said with a frown. "What's wrong, can I help?"

Jaina rested her head in her hand, blinking hard against tears. "Jag just came back from Csilla. He had only stepped off the shuttle, and these security officers shackled him up like a common criminal, accusing him of treason—Anakin I think I'm having a nervous breakdown."

"Okay, whoa, calm down," he said. "Are you sure it's not a mistake?"

"How could it be a mistake?" she practically shouted. Then, remembering Hanna could hear she continued more softly, "I don't have time for this. Just meet me there, okay?"

Anakin nodded solemnly. "Of course. But why can't she be with you?"

Jaina took a deep shuddering breath. "Because I don't want her to be there when I kill our mother."

The penthouse Leia Organa Solo had lived in with Jaina's father had been one of those destroyed during the short Yuuzhan Vong occupation of Coruscant. Since then, the New Republic Chief of State and President of the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances had moved a block closer to the Senate Building and gone twenty floors higher, now owning the entire 1691st floor and the open-air gardens on the roof. Jaina rarely visited Leia, and when she did it was because Leia had asked to see her granddaughter. But this time, she thought as she rode the turbolift towards he mother, she had a purpose of her own.

It wasn't that she thought the Chief of State had set her husband up. No, she rather liked Jag, actually. It was instead that the imprisonment of such a high-ranking official would not have gone unnoticed by her office. And the actual arrest would have to have been authorized because technically, Jag wasn't under New Republic jurisdiction. He was, however, a part of the Galactic Alliance, and as a part of that governing body any action against either the Empire or the New Republic was considered treasonous. Still, you couldn't bring to charges someone from a different government without risking political chaos, and would have to be handled delicately from a high office. And yet, Leia hadn't so much as dropped Jaina a warning. The right thing to do, in Jaina's opinion, would have been to have an actual talk with her, explain the charges and reasons behind them—all of which were still unbeknownst to Jaina. The _motherly_ thing to do would have been to try to reason the military into investigating in private, and let Jag keep his freedom while they did so. None of that had been done.

The door swished aside, revealing the plush and elaborate living room of the aristocratic suite. Jaina moved inside, disabled the security droid with a flick of her hand, and called, "Mother?"

For a moment, there was no reply. "Mother!" she called again.

"Jaina?"

She spun to the left, the direction the voice was coming from. Leia appeared from the adjacent room, a wary smile on her face. It whithered under Jaina's look. "_Why_ is my husband in prison?"

Leia winced, as if the words had been a physical blow. "Sit down, Jaina, and let me explain."

"Explain why you couldn't even let me know that you were about to bring charges against the man I love?" she ground out, fists clenched. Forcibly, she loosened them. Somehow she had to stop being so tense. This couldn't possibly be good for the baby.

Leia retreated behind her sabaac face, the one so carefully learned from her late husband and perfected by years in politics. "Sit."

Stiffly, trembling with anger and distress, Jaina sat.

Leia sat down elegantly across from her, the epitome of poise and composition. "Now calm down a bit and let me explain. Two days ago the _Renegade_ sent a distress call from the Ylian Corridor, saying they had come under fire from an Imperial Star Destroyer. We sent reinforcements, but by the time we got there they had been destroyed."

"Completely?" Jaina interrupted, a sick feeling clutching at her heart.

"No," Leia shook her head. "Some areas of the cruiser had been partitioned off in airlocks, and people survived, including a few snubfighters. The recordings from all those remaining ships were sent immediately here. The attacking Star Destroyer had been identified as the _Valorous_ and Jag as its captain. From what we've managed to glean, all evidence shows that Imperial forces fired first." 

Jaina's anger had frozen into an icy ache, every beat of her heart painful and squeezed from glaciated arteries. "That doesn't tell me why you didn't inform me about any of this. How do you think Hanna felt, watching her father be put in binders and led off like a criminal?"

Leia winced again, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't have any direct contact or authority over the time or place of the arrest. And I wasn't sure what to tell you. Jaina, it was only confirmed that the ship was the _Valorous_ yesterday evening, and I've spent the past few days in a panic over the political repercussions. The New Republic can't afford a war with the Empire, which is what the families of those killed will want, along with others."

Jaina looked at her hands, still skeptical. She found it hard to believe that of Jag. He wouldn't have killed or assaulted anyone without being provoked. But she knew him well enough to know he would have defended himself and his men. He was staunchly patriotic, and wouldn't have suffered the hostility towards the officers, pilots, and soldiers who trusted in him. 

"There's more," Leia whispered hesitantly.

Jaina looked up, knowing she didn't want to hear but understanding that she had to. "Tell me."

She took a deep breath and blew it out. "This is less about Jag and more about New Republic and Imperial relations. The Alliance has really opened the communication lines between us, and things have gone well till now. But in the end, this is about aggressive action between two nations. That could probably have been handled, but Pellaeon and the Moff Council deny all involvement and refuse to accept responsibility. They won't admit that Jag was under their legal power and so under their orders, making them responsible. Which in turn has, unfortunately, created new allegations against Jag personally. It brings up questions about whether he was under _someone else's_ orders or not."

Jaina was numb all over. It was a feeling somewhat akin to that she had had on Csilla years ago, stranded in a blizzard. The same hazy half-alertness as you descended into temperature-induced unconsciousness. "What are you saying?" she whispered, clutching the folds of the plush chair tightly in both fists.

Leia looked genuinely sorry, which was odd enough in itself, but Jaina still steeled herself for the worst. "He was en route from Csilla, Jaina, a region that he must have a deep loyalty to. For something like this to happen as he's leaving seems hardly coincidental." 

Jaina stood suddenly, turning to hide her fearful tears. "No," she told her, surprised at how confident she sounded. "I won't believe it. He loves me. He loves the Empire. Jag wouldn't do that."

"Jaina, just because he loves you, that doesn't mean he wouldn't go back to the CEDF. They could have asked him to do this. Things haven't been great between the New Republic and the Ascendancy since the two of you defected, this could be their way of announcing war..."

"No!" she snapped. "You don't understand. He can't go to the Ascendancy and still expect to stay married to me. I'm banned from Chiss space, Mother. I wouldn't be able to follow him."

Leia pursed her lips, but showed no sign of reneging on her claims. "I have no proof either way. That is why we are launching an investigation."

Jaina closed her eyes and stretched out to the Force. When she opened them again, she had her answer. "I will stand by him. Until there is proof otherwise, I refuse to believe that he did this thing you claim. But thank you for answering my questions. I'll probably be back to see you on the matter."

Leia nodded, but made no move to rise and walk her to the door. Jaina let herself out.

"Did you or did you not engage in aggressive action against a New Republic military force?"

Jag looked up at the interrogator, chafed by his incompetence and stupidity. For one, Jag had no respect for such a pitiful excuse for an inquisitor. Two, he persisted in repeating the same questions Jag had already answered, as if they would change. And three, the line of questioning was getting them nowhere. They were wasting his time, when he should be at home explaining everything to Jaina and hoping she understood.

He resorted to sighing and rolling his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "I think we've already established the answer to that question, Captain."

He glanced up from the piece of flimsi he was reading. "Yes or no will suffice, General."

"Yes." 

The man leaned forward, placing his hands palm down on the table separating them, the position making his gut hang over his belt. "And did you or did you not take part in treasonous plotting against the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances?"

Jag stared at him blankly. "Where do you all come up with this stuff?" 

"Yes or no, General," he growled, this time less lenient. 

"No," he said carefully, enunciating the word insolently. 

"Then why do we have a video and voice recording of you ordering your pilots to open fire on the _Renegade_?"

"How many times do I have to tell you this?" he exclaimed throwing up his hands. "They fired on us. _My men were under fire_. I had no choice but to allow them to defend themselves."

"Not according to our records, General," he replied smugly. "The first shot fired came from an Imperial TIE fighter."

"That's a blatant lie," he stated flatly.

The man waved the disc in front of his face. "We're the ones with proof, General. We're going to need something more substantial than your word."

"Ask my men, any of them," Jag suggested.

"Oh, we plan to. Not that we expect to find anything different. They'll no doubt have been instructed to protect their captain."

Jag eyed him contemptuously. "I want out of here. There is no call for this. The Grand Admiral will not stand for—"

"I don't give a flying kriff what your admiral will want," he replied snidely. 

Very slowly, Jag leaned forward and replied with complete calm, "You'll come to regret you ever said that."

"We'll see," he smirked. Suddenly he frowned and touched the comlink embedded in his ear. He cast a glance at the far wall, which was clearly two-sided glass where his superiors looked in but Jag couldn't see them. Sighing, the Captain turned back to Jag. "They seem to think we're going to get nothing further out of you today." As he spoke, the door opened and two armed guards stepped inside. "These fine men will escort you back to your cell."

"Now wait a minute!" Jag exclaimed. "I'm not spending the night in this place."

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice, General. Perhaps a night in your cell will make you a little more cooperative tomorrow."

Not quite able to believe what was happening, Jag followed the guards out the door and back towards his cubicle.

"Well, Miss Quee, I think you would be an excellent addition to this facility's staff. Your credentials are excellent, and you certainly seem to know what you're doing. Welcome aboard."

Danni smiled gratefully, an exhilarating drive making her heart race. She had been so preoccupied with half-hearted Jedi training and Jacen the past few years she had neglected to retain a steady job. But it was time for her to become independent again, and move on with her life. Jacen Solo was her past, and this lab job was her future. At least, for a while. "Thank you, Doctor. When do I start?"

"Tomorrow, if you can," the smiling young woman replied. "I could definitely use the help around here."

Danni opened her mouth to reply, but stopped as one of their comlinks started going off. "It's mine," Danni said, holding up her hand as she pulled the small cylinder from her pocket. "I'm terribly sorry, this shouldn't take long. Danni here." 

"Danni?" an all-too familiar voice returned. Danni closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath.

"Jacen, what do you want? I'm busy."

"You can't come by and get your stuff tonight, I have to go help Jaina. Anakin called like five minutes ago and said I really need to come over, he had a feeling she was going to need us both there."

"Is everything okay?" She immediately cursed her own curiosity, reminding herself that they weren't her problem any more, no longer her family. Just Jacen's. 

"I'm not sure, but I think Anakin said something like Jag's in jail."

"Jag's in _jail_?" she asked, incredulous.

"I think so."

"Well. Just let me know when a good time to come get everything is. And tell Jaina I'm terribly sorry."

"All right," he replied, and then was gone.

Danni looked back up at the doctor, who suddenly looked a shade or two paler. "I'm awfully sorry, that was my ex-boyfriend. I was supposed to come pick up my things from his apartment tonight, but there was some sort of family emergency—"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted, "but I could help overhearing. Did you say Jag _Fel_ was in jail?"

Danni felt a crease form between her eyes. "Yes. Why, do you know him?"

She nodded slowly, looking highly stressed. "A little bit. I treated his brother."

"_Oh_," Danni said, things clicking into place. "So you're _that_ Dr. Banks."

"Call me Ismene," she smiled, regaining some of her color. "We're colleges now, after all."

"Of course. I'm Danni."

"I'm very pleased to have you aboard, Danni. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tell me what to do. Someone tell me what to do," Jaina demanded of her brothers, who sat as if two opposite corners of the triangle they formed around the table. Hanna sat on Anakin's lap, playing with the buttons on his jacket.

"Jaina, I'm not sure there's anything you can do," he told her.

"There has to be something," she said, feeling helplessly pent up. She had the uncontrollable urge to _do_ something, and yet there was nothing.

"You need to talk to Jag, for one thing," Jacen said.

"I know," she groaned. "But I admit I'm not looking forward to it. I'm afraid of what he'll say."

"Don't be," Jacen instructed. "Whatever happens, I know he didn't abandon you. He loves you far too much."

"I hope you're right," she sighed.

"We are," Anakin stated flatly. "Why don't you go see Jag, and when you come back we'll help you do whatever you need."

She smiled minutely. "Thank you, both of you." She went over and kissed the top of Hanna's head, ruffling her hair playfully. "I'll be back soon, sweetie."

She looked up at her mother with hopeful eyes. "Daddy too?"

Jaina forced a smile. "Let's hope so."

It had taken an hour of bickering, a comm call to the Chief of State, and a little Force persuasion, but Jaina finally managed to haggle herself a minute or two with Jag. They led her to a small room divided in half by a wall about a meter high and one huge piece of glass. There was a small seating area—basically a shelf-like table and a chair—on either side of the glass, and Jaina took a seat. A few minutes later, the door on the other side of the glass opened, and Jag stepped through. He had been dressed in a standard navy blue jumpsuit, but thankfully was no longer in binders. He smiled minutely when he saw her, but didn't speak until all doors had been closed and it was just the two of them.

"I can explain," he began. 

Jaina shook her head, looking at her hands. "I already know."

"They shot first, I swear it. You know—Jaina, you _know_ I wouldn't do that. They killed one of my pilots. They killed him! What was I supposed to do?"

"I believe you."

Her admission seemed to take him slightly aback. "You do?"

Jaina forced a smile. Even if she wasn't as confident as she sounded, he needed her to be supportive. As hard as it was on her, she could only imagine what he must be feeling. "There are so few things in this universe I can trust in anymore, Jag. I can trust in the Force. I can trust in the Empire. But most importantly I'd like to think I can trust in you."

He looked away, his scar standing out in stark contrast to his unusually pale face. "Where did we go wrong, Jaina?"

At that moment she felt more wretched than she had all day, but suddenly tears wouldn't come. In the privacy of her ship where there was no one to judge except Hanna, who felt the same about her unconditionally, tears were able to flow. But in this visiting room, where at least a dozen guards were certainly watching and a husband she wasn't sure she knew anymore...crying wasn't an option. She looked at her hands, once never seen without a caked layer of dirt from various mechanic jobs, now soft, clean, and neatly trimmed. It had been a long time since she had felt like herself, done the things that truly made her happy. "This isn't the time or place, Jag."

"Then when?" he demanded.

She shook her head, the whole situation feeling very surreal. "I'm not going to let this marriage fail. You don't need to worry about that. We'll make it through, somehow. But only if we can figure out how to get you out of here."

"Call Pellaeon," he suggested. "This can't be legal."

Jaina bit her lower lip, wishing there was some way to avoid this particular subject. "That's part of the reason you're in here, Jag. If the Empire backed you, this would be a New Republic/Empire problem, something to be negotiated between Pellaeon and my mother. The problem is that a situation like this wouldn't be able to end without the Empire having to make serious concessions, ones you know very well we can't afford."

She saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. "They've denied responsibility."

Jaina nodded, pained. "I don't like it either, but it makes it a lot easier on them if they just blame it all on you, instead of making it a galactic incident."

Jag slammed his fist angrily on the table. "But it's not my fault!"

She reached out tentatively through the Force, brushing his aura. Once upon a time, they had had at least some form of communication that way, and astound ability on his part to feel her Force touch when she brushed him. It had been a long time since she had felt that connected to him, but perhaps there was still a lingering vestige of that link. Surprisingly, she felt him respond almost immediately, becoming aware of her contact. He couldn't reach back, couldn't communicate, but he knew. Jaina poured all her love and strength into him, silently encouraging him to be strong, even if she didn't have much strength left herself. Reluctantly she pulled away, knowing she had helped him more with the simple contact than any words. Even if she felt perhaps slightly less optimism than she let him know, it was for the best. At least he would have one less thing to doubt until she could negotiate his release.

"Pellaeon may not be supporting you publicly," she whispered at last, "but there was a recording at home. He's sending the best defense lawyer the Empire has to offer, and is personally footing the bill."

Jag, looking much more positive than a few moments before, nodded in relief. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

She stood, managing to pull her girth from the chair with minimal difficulty. "I'll work on my Mom, too, see if there's anything I can persuade her to do that she hasn't already."

"Good idea. Make sure and take Hanna with you, you might actually have a chance then," he smirked. 

Jaina smiled, wishing she could at least hold him, if for only a minute. "I'll have to remember that." Then, more seriously, "Stay strong, Jag. We're all behind you. This will all be over before you know it."

He smiled appreciatively. "Take care of yourself, and that baby. I don't want you working too hard while I'm not there to stop you."

She rolled her eyes. "Like you've ever stopped me from doing anything. But I love you, Jag."

"I love you, Jaina." 


	7. Chapter 7: Taking Action

**Chapter 7: Taking Action**

"Jag, if we're going to make this defense work, you've got to be completely honest with me. Now, even if you did initiate the attack, that doesn't mean we have to tell them that, but I need to know—"

"I'm telling the truth," Jag ground out. It was obvious that Andru Kolivin, the lawyer from Bastion, was brilliant, but nonetheless annoying. Why was everyone questioning him? "All I know is that I was talking to that pitiful excuse of a Captain—"

"Good idea! I'll pull Petreum's military records."

"When one of my bridge officers said we had come under fire and one of my pilots was dead. I asked him about it, and he told his officers to open fire. So I opened fire. We won. End of story."

The briefing was in a small, secure room in the prison facility, but Kolivin had had it fully examined for listening devices. In there, at least, he knew he wasn't being spied on. Kolivin was typing away furiously at his datapad, then stopped to read something. "It says here that Petreum was only recently given command of the _Renegade_, and only because his base was on the edge of the Known Regions and the regular Captain passed away. He was given command only by right of death." 

"I knew he was a little kriffer," Jag muttered.

Kolivin glanced up at him, amused, then continued. A man in his early thirties with wavy black hair and dark eyes, Kolivin had a stellar record. As far as he knew, he hadn't lost a case since he was an intern at a firm fifteen years before. "But it seems he has no outstanding indiscretions, though here's something interesting..." 

"What?" Jag demanded.

"His family was killed shortly after he was born, during the Thrawn crisis. They were victims of Thrawn's initial assault on Coruscant." Kolivin looked up, eyes dancing. "Everyone he loved was killed by and Chiss Grand Admiral in the Imperial Navy." He stood suddenly, reminding Jag of his mother when she acted out one of her illustrious roles. "And here, twenty years later, we have this poor orphan boy who's managed to scrape his way to a command position. On his first tour in his newly minted flagship, disaster befalls. He finds himself in the presence of a man who represents everything he has ever despised. A man—no, a _hero_—who was instrumental in the defeat of the notorious Yuuzhan Vong. But alas, a hero who was raised by the Chiss, the race of the man who took everything from poor Petreum. And an Imperial, no less, the government his parents gave everything to bring down. And, being young and impetuous as he is, Petreum is ready for a fight. Ready to exact vengeance. In a moment of anger he lashes out! And kills and innocent man. Our hero has no choice but to retaliate. Oh, I like this! What do you think, Jag?"

"It's a good story," Jag admitted. "Will the judge buy it?"

Kolivin smiled dashingly, making Jag wonder if perhaps he was not part Corellian. "Of course. It's me."

Jag resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "What else? Those tapes have to be fake. Can you get your hands on the real ones?"

Kolivin looked slightly distressed, but only slightly. "I'm afraid their not fakes, Jag. I had them checked, thoroughly."

"But that's _impossible_," Jag hissed.

"We'll just have to work around it," Kolivin shrugged it off. "There is a two or three second portion of the tape that blacks out when a shot could have been fired. That's a good one too, let me write that down..."

Jag chewed his lower lip, wondering whether or not to ask the question he had been pondering in the back of his mind the whole time. Finally he gave up and said, "Have you talked to Jaina?"

Kolivin looked up and smiled. "Yes. Hot stuff, you really lucked up there."

"It was a damn miracle," Jag said, and meant it. Not because of her looks—even though that helped—but rather that he found someone he could actually love. Whether that love lasted...now there was the question. "But that's not what I meant. Did you talk to her?" He nodded absently, suddenly engrossed in his notes. "Did she say anything?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah," he replied, but didn't seem forthcoming in telling him what.

"Well?" Jag pressed.

"Well what?"

"What did she say?" 

"Oh," he said, putting the datapad aside for a moment. "Um, let me see. She asked me to tell you something, but I can't remember what..." Jag resisted the urge to scream at him, and instead settled for clenching his fists under the table. He had been under custody for almost two weeks, and the absence from Jaina and Hanna was starting to wear him thin. "Oh, now I do. She said, 'Be patient' and 'I have a plan'."

Jag felt a furrow forming between his eyes. "That could only mean about a million different things."

Kolivin shrugged. "I didn't ask. You want me to send her a message?"

Jag nodded slowly. "Tell her that I miss her, and to be careful."

Danni carefully prepared the given formula, then put the resulting compound into the processor to be condensed into a oral capsule. She waited by the processor anxiously, tapping her fingers on the stark white, sterile counter, watching the timer tick down. When it was down to a minute the door hissed open and Ismene stepped inside, scribbling furiously on a piece of flimsi. She looked up briefly and smiled. "Hi Danni." 

"Hey."

"Are you fixing that prescription I asked for?"

"Yeah," Danni replied.

"Good. Gylyan is bouncing off the walls in there, I need something to calm him down. Not that I blame him. He's only doing what all monkey-lizards do," Ismene smirked.

Danni laughed slightly. "What a terrible condition. Not to mention embarrassing. I hardly think a Mon Cal could pass as a monkey-lizard."

"I supposed not," Ismene agreed amusedly.

The timer went off, and Danni opened the processor and pulled out the capsule. "Here you go," she told her.

"Thanks," she replied, taking it. She was half way to the door when she stopped and turned slightly. "I was wondering. Have you heard anything about Chak? I was curious about his progress and whether or not being back with his family triggered anything."

Danni shook her head sadly. "I'm kind of estranged from them now, sorry. I dumped Jaina's brother, after all."

Ismene only nodded thoughtfully, then left. Danni didn't mind. She cast a glance to her left, watching the other, quieter occupant of the room. Alix Salodime was the studious sort, quick-witted but not very talkative. But Danni knew him to have a gentle smile and a good sense of humor. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't hard on the eyes, either. He would be the perfect rebound man.

Danni had no delusions about love, that she expected to replace Jacen immediately, if ever. No, but she needed to force herself to move on. It was all too easy in the cold of the night to miss his touch and his smile, the way her whole body warmed when he kissed her. She needed to move past that, to find someone else to occupy her thoughts. It was the only way she would ever get back in the game.

"Still working, Alix?" she asked at last.

He didn't turn around, but kept his pale blond head bent over the work station. After a time he said, "I'm still working on that miracle formula of Ismene's. You know, the one that's supposed stimulate the nerve endings in the brain and promote healing?"

Danni nodded and sauntered over towards his, looking over at the several sheets of work, all for one chemical formula. "I wouldn't worry about it. You'll get it sooner or later."

He sat back, chewing on the end of his writing implement, observing his work. "If only it was sooner rather than later. I think I could get it if I could figure out how to separate these molecules..." he gestured to the symbols on one side of the diagram.

Danni peered closely at it, then after a minute said, "Do you have a sample of this one hand, by any chance?" 

"Yeah, it's in the freezer," he told her, pointing across the room.

Danni stood and crossed the maze of chairs and lab tables, trying not to knock over any test tubes. When she reached it she opened the freezer and pulled out the appropriately labeled petri dish. She carried it back to where he sat and said, "I think I can separate these for you."

"How?" he asked skeptically. "I've tried all the formulas..."

"But have you tried the Force?" she asked, cocking one eyebrow.

A dubious expression remained plastered on his face. "I didn't know you were a Jedi."

"I'm not," she said stiffly, taking a seat at the table. "But I'm Force-sensitive, and I trained at the Temple for a while. This is pretty simple stuff, I should be able to do it easily."

"You're joking," he stated finally. Danni smiled, staring into his fabulously blue eyes. Then she closed her eyes and stretched out to the Force.

It was a simple matter, and within ten minutes she had completely separated the compound. "That's amazing," Alix stated, watching the final result. 

"Well, it's pretty awesome, yeah, but I wouldn't go so far as _amazing_..." she grinned. He smiled back, and suddenly she felt guilty. Guilty for cheating on Jacen.

_Ridiculous!_ she quarreled with herself. For one, she was no longer bound to Jacen in fidelity. And two, using the Force to separate a particularly resilient chemical hardly counted as cheating anyway. But that's exactly what it felt like. _Jacen doesn't love you!_ she thought angrily. The very idea made her heart ache, but she ignored it best she could. _Move on. Move on..._

"I think it's amazing," Alix continued.

"I can't wait to see what Ismene says, then," Danni laughed. "Who knows, maybe we'll get promotions?"

"Over who? We're the only ones that work here, remember?" he laughed.

She shrugged. "It would be an ego boost, at least."

"True," he smiled. Danni smiled back, and nearly choked on her own guilt.

"You know you're insane, right?" Jacen asked casually as he took a seat beside her on the hard bench.

"Shh, it's starting," Jaina told him.

"Jag would kill you if he knew what you were planning."

Jaina looked offended. "He would not." 

"What makes you think that?" Jacen demanded.

Jaina patted her round stomach affectionately. "I'm carrying his child, remember?"

Jacen rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything further. The first hearing in Jag's case was about to begin, and he wanted to hear what was being said. The prosecution was going first, and instead of an opening argument they planned to show the recording of the battle in question, letting it speak for itself. The tape was played on a large flat screen at the front of the court, making the feed easily visible to all. Not that there were that many people there. Jaina had managed to haggle Leia into forcing the security to limit the number of people allowed, and the result was a scarce few to observe the proceedings.

The feed played, showing clearly a New Republic Y-wing being fired upon by one of Jag's TIEs. Jacen looked at Jag the whole time, who sat grimly at the front beside his lawyer. His eyes never left the screen and to all appearances his expression didn't change either, but Jacen could see the tension around his eyes deepen as the recording wore on.

Soon it was the defense's turn, and the attorney—Andru Kolivin, Jacen thought—opened by reading Captain Hurin Petreum's military and personal record, recounting how his family had been killed in Thrawn's attempt to overtake Coruscant and neatly connecting the lines to a prejudice attitude towards Jag on Petreum's part. A smart move, in Jacen's mind, not that he was fluent in such things. To counter, he read Jag's record, highlighting every victory, accomplishment, and medal he had every received. In the end Jag came out looking as if he had been chiseled from gold.

After Kolivin finished the judge called an end for the day, and Jacen hadn't even stood when Jaina was half way to the front. She grabbed Jag by the arm as he left and said something Jacen couldn't here. He smiled and leaned in, kissing her lightly. Then she handed him something, a piece of flimsi neatly folded into a small square. He took it, and they parted. "What was that about?" Jacen asked as she came back to where he stood.

"Appearances," she said simply. "Kolivin suggested we play up the family angle, it'll build sympathy."

Jacen smirked incredulously, leading her outside into the hall where Anakin and Hanna waited. Hanna wasn't allowed inside, but refused to stay at home, so they had settled for a compromise. "Did you give it to him?" Hanna demanded as Jaina lifted her into her arms.

"I sure did," Jaina smiled. 

"What was it?" Jacen asked.

"I drew Daddy a picture," Hanna beamed. Jacen laughed quietly. Jaina certainly was taking Kolivin's advice. To all appearances it had looked like a love note or some other private letter, instead of a simple drawing by his daughter.

As the trio and Hanna stepped outside Jaina was assaulted by holojournalists. She tried to shrug them off, ignore them, until one unfortunate Zeltron asked, "Mrs. Fel, how has being a Jedi affected your outlook on this matter?"

Jaina stopped dead, her back going rigid as she turned slowly to look. Jacen winced, anticipating her reaction. "I am a Jedi Knight," she said slowly, voice wavering. "And I've played my part in protecting this galaxy. But that is _not all_ of who I am." She paused, wiping angrily at the tears forming in her eyes. "I am a mother. And a wife. And I have just had all of that ripped out from underneath me. My husband is in _prison_ for a crime he didn't commit, while I have to raise our child alone and deal with this pregnancy. How do you _think_ I'm looking at this matter?"

No one asked anything after that, and they made their way to the hovertaxi undisturbed.

Jaina stood in the flow of foot traffic, an island in a sea of beings, anonymous. She pulled her cloak a little tighter around herself, feeling the bite of the wind. Coruscant was not a mild planet by far, and even on the best of days the weather was less than agreeable. She stared at the statue in front of her, examining the likeness critically, as she had done so many times.

This was what was left of her father.

It looked nothing like she remembered him, but more like the roguish young scoundrel that had stolen the heart of the Rebellion and its princess, not the aged smuggler of years gone by. In truth, Jaina had not known him well. But often she found herself in the small courtyard that had been given to his memory, especially when facing a dilemma. Somehow, perhaps, some of his wisdom lingered here still, and she could absorb his advice through her skin. It was a comforting thought, if nothing else.

It was odd really. When she thought of her father, the first person that came to mind was not Han Solo, but Luke Skywalker. He would always hold that place in her heart, for all he had done and continued to do. A father wasn't the person who had sired you. It was the person who had raised and loved and nurtured you into the person you were. Han had done none of that. 

But Jaina had learned to forgive him. And through that she realized that there was a bond of blood there that couldn't be replaced. Part of his spirit lived on in her, and in this place she could feel it burn like a torch. He may not have been a great father, but he had been a great man. She often felt that she was a lot more like him than anyone had given her credit for. That's why she felt when she faced a problem that he would be the best one to turn to. He would know best how she felt.

Right now she faced a dilemma. She could be true to herself, to her nature and spirit, or to the ideals of others. Her inner self yearned to act, to not take the blatant aggression towards her family lying down. To fight. _That_ was who Jaina Solo was: a fighter. But doing that would not be easy. 

In her warrior's heart, she knew that this was no accident or misunderstanding. It was a setup. People might call her crazy for believing it, but she knew. Things like that just happened to her family, and she was wise enough to recognize it. The problem lay in what she knew she had to do to correct it.

The answers she needed lay on Csilla. Whatever had happened there had to have been what triggered the accident.

Jaina was not allowed on Csilla. Could she let that stop her? Was waltzing into danger while nearly eight months pregnant and carrying a four-year-old idiocy? Or was that her saving grace? Jaina knew Syal Fel well enough to know she would never let Jaina be imprisoned or harmed while her grandchildren were present. It would be a fabulous cover, but Jaina felt bad using her children that way, especially when it might not work.

There was also the chance that she could come undetected. The CEDF didn't even have to know she was there. It would be tricky, but she could probably pull it off with Syal's help.

But was it worth the risk?

Jaina closed her eyes and centered herself in the same way she did when meditating, but she didn't stretch out to the Force. _What would you do in my place, Dad?_

She felt a smile spread slowly across her face as the answer became clear. She could almost here his voice in her head.

_Never tell me the odds_. 

"Ha! I _got_ you!" Cem beamed, throwing the vidgame controller victorously.

"Yeah, well," Chak glowered, "I still hammered you on that podrace game." 

"Beginners luck," Cem crowed.

"Oh yeah?" Chak scoffed. "I'll take you right now—"

"Fine!" Cem agreed, reaching for his controller.

"Oh no you don't," Syal interrupted. "You boys have been at that for the past two hours. It's time for dinner."

"We can't play _one more game_?" Cem asked leadingly.

She shook her head, a resolute expression on her face that let them know that the matter wasn't up for debate. Chak sighed an turned the game off, climbing reluctantly to his feet. So far, life on Csilla had been a lot better than he had expected. They treated him like royalty, and anything he wanted was most often given. Syal didn't make him do chores like Jaina did, and basically he just hung around and had fun with Cem all day. It was an easy life, one he could definitely get used to. Some part of him had felt guilty for liking things that way, the part that knew he was defeating the purpose of being there. Chak tried to ignore the feeling.

He had come to like his family, though, or at least enjoy their company. Jaina had been the closest maternal figure he had had, but he now found that Syal fit the bill much more nicley, reminding him of the perfect housewives he had seen in holodramas. He didn't see Soontir often, but when he did the former Baron was amiable and kindly. Wyn he saw even less, but he immediately took to her spirit and determination. Cem though, was the biggest surprise of all.

The comm started going off just as he sat down at the table. "Can one of you get that?" Syal asked, balancing the tray of drinks carefully.

Chak stood and went to the comm, flipping the switch. To his arrant surprise, the face that appeared was not that of a austere Chiss, but none other than Jaina. "Jaina!" he grinned, his smile a mile wide.

She smiled back, but Chak didn't miss the lines of tension around her eyes. "How are you, Chak?"

"Pretty good," he smiled. 

"I'm so glad. Can I speak to Syal?"

He frowned at the request. Hadn't she called to talk to him? "Sure, lemme get her." He turned towards the kitchen and called, "Syal?" 

"Yes?" she asked back absently.

"Jaina wants to talk to you."

"Jaina?" she questioned, shocked. 

"Yeah," he replied unenthusiastically.

She came quickly to the transmitter where he sat, still wiping her hands on a dish rag. She smiled brilliantly as she saw her daughter-in-law. "Jaina Solo, if you haven't grown since the last time I saw you!" 

Jaina smiled broadly. "I guess I've put on a little weight, with the baby and all."

Syal looked mock-terse. "You know that isn't what I meant at all. You're not a little girl anymore." 

"I don't think I was a little girl before, either," Jaina continued to smile. To anyone else she would have seemed conversational, but Chak knew her well enough to know she was growing impatient.

"To me, everyone is a little girl anymore," Syal laughed.

Jaina abruptly changed the topic, "Syal, I need you to do me a favor. A big one. And I can't tell you why." 

Syal frowned, nudging Chak over to take a seat on the sofa. "What's wrong, dear?"

"I need on Csilla."

Chak was no Jedi, but he didn't need the Force to feel the tension flying in the room. "Jaina..." Syal began.

"It's important. Jag's fate could depend on it."

Syal pursed her lips, thinking hard. "Do you have a plan?"

"I was hoping you could help in that area," Jaina grimaced. "I haven't been on Csilla in years."

"I know," she said dryly. She licked her lips carefully, then told her, "Tell them you're me. My security code is 6142C, and use the transponder code to the _Starflare_. We have a landing pad here at the estate." 

Jaina breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you Syal. I'll explain everything in a few minutes."

"A few minutes?" Syal gasped. "Are you here already?"

"On the edge of the system," Jaina answered. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Hanna's with me."

Syal's hand moved to cover her mouth. "Hurry, dear. And be careful. I'm looking forward to hearing what all this is about."

"I will," Jaina agreed solemnly, and the connection faded away.

"Visitor for you, General," the guard smirked.

Jag raised his head up from his cot. Had Jaina come to see him again? He hoped so. He had longed to see her ever since the hearing that morning, to learn what she thought of it all. He had relied on her insight in almost all matters in the past four years, and now he was simply at a loss. Slowly he sat up, following the guard out of his mundane cell and towards the small booth where he could talk to whoever was calling on him.

As the door opened he was both surprised and disappointed to see that it was Jacen. "Hey, brother," Jacen smiled as Jag sat down. "How are you holding up?" 

Jag shook his head. "I'm bored out of my skull."

Jacen smiled thinly. "I'm afraid I have something to occupy your thoughts."

Jag felt a knot form in his stomach. Could something have happened to Jaina? Or Hanna? Or the baby? "What's wrong?" he choked.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, but Jaina's gone."

"What? What do you mean, 'gone'?" Jag asked, his voice raising in anxiety.

"No, not they're fine, calm down," Jacen soothed. "But they're not on Coruscant. I found a note from Jaina this morning. She think's you've been set up, and that she can find the answers to unlocking your case on Csilla. So she just up and left, didn't tell anyone. I suspect its because she knew we would try to talk her out of it."

Jag sat in stunned silence. "That's insane. They won't let her within ten thousand kilometers of Csilla."

Jacen shrugged. "I knew she was planning this, but I thought I had talked her out of it. I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry, I should have tried harder. But I do know that she's set her mind to this, and I'd be more afraid for the Chiss than Jaina."

Jag smiled despite himself. "You're right on that count, at least." A thought struck him. "Did she take Hanna?"

"Yes."

Jag bit his lower lip in anger. Not only was she endangering herself, but their children. Why did she insist on always taking such wild risks against better judgment and the wills of everyone who loved her? _Because I try to get her not to_, he thought huffily. He had thought perhaps that being a mother and a caregiver had tempered her rebellious streak at least a bit. He knew now that he had been wrong. "If she took Hanna, then she's pretty confident in her ability to succeed," Jag said slowly.

"But what would make her think that?" Jacen asked aloud, more to the air itself than Jag.

"The only thing I can think of is that she has inside help," Jag concluded. "Either Chak, or my mother."

"Or both," Jacen finished.

Jag sighed, running a weary hand over his head. He loved Jaina with all his heart, but that woman would be the death of him, if only because his body would one day give out from the stress. 

He couldn't think of a better way to go.

The Defense Force had completely bought Jaina's story, and the idea that she was Syal in the _Starflare_. Now it was only a matter of keeping the secret a secret. And since her purpose here was only so she could go snooping around, and with Hanna in tow, that was going to be a challenge indeed. Jaina had always loved a challenge.

Her hand poised over the locking mechanism that would open the hatch to the _Always_, Jaina stopped and looked down at Hanna. So much like her father, Jaina could feel her slight nervousness, but she was all seriousness on the outside. Slowly she lowered herself into a crouch beside her, re-buttoning the collar of her parka. "Do you remember what I taught you?" she whispered.

"Yes," Hanna answered.

"Show me," Jaina commanded.

Hanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Soon Jaina could feel the small ripples and eddies of the Force pulling and gathering around her, constructing into a shield that covered her whole body. Jaina stretched out her own abilities, pressing on the shield here and there, testing its strength. It wasn't powerful, but would repel possibly up to three blaster bolts. By then Jaina should be at her side and ready to protect her anyway.

It was a trick Uncle Luke had taught Jaina and her brothers as children, and it had served them well. Hanna was small and young, and Jaina admitted she hadn't trained her in the use of the Force over much, but she had made sure from the youngest age possible that she knew how to defend herself. That was one thing she would never be lax in.

"Very good," Jaina praised as Hanna let the shield fall. Then in a softer tone, "Stay close to me. Things aren't the same here as they once were." 

Hanna nodded obediently. That was one good thing about raising Jagged Fel's child: she always knew when to obey orders. Jaina depressed the locking switch, and the hatch lowered slowly. A blast of cold air hit them, and Hanna buried her face in Jaina's coat. Outside stood three people Jaina knew very well, or had at one time. Syal, Cem, and Chak Fel.

Jaina started down the ramp, holding on tightly to Hanna's hand. Syal smiled genuinely as they came closer, but seemed too wary to come and embrace them. "Jaina," she said when they were within earshot, "You look beautiful." 

"Thank you," Jaina smiled. "I only look like I'm smuggling a star cruiser under my shirt."

"Uncle Chak!" Hanna exclaimed.

Chak smiled broadly, opening his arms to his niece. She broke free of Jaina's grip and ran forward. Jaina started to call her back, but she stopped after only a few steps, realizing there were other people there she didn't know. She retreated hastily back to her mother, hiding her face in Jaina's coat. "Hanna," Jaina began, "I'd like you to meet your grandmother."

Hanna tossed Syal a glance, then looked back up at Jaina. "Mommy, that's not Grandma Leia."

Humor tugged her lips. "No, it's not. This is your Daddy's mother, just like Grandma Leia is mine." 

Hanna looked back at Syal, still wary. "Is she the one that sent me Fluffy on my birthday?" she asked, referring the the stuffed animal she had only recently been able to sleep without. 

"Yes," Jaina answered.

Hanna looked back towards her paternal grandmother. "Thank you for Fluffy."

Syal smiled broadly. "You're so very welcome, darling. My, if you aren't the absolute perfect image of your father."

Jaina squinted her eyes against the cold, starting to feel the numbness in her fingers. "It's getting cold, can we go inside?"

"Of course," she said, turning and motioning to the Fel's three-story mansion. "I'm very interested in hearing what this is all about." 


	8. Chapter 8: Revelations and Complications

**Chapter 8: Revelations and Complications **

Csilla had been in the midst of its third ice age for the past ten thousand years. At some points in the winter months—which compromised half a Csillan year, since there were only two seasons—moisture could freeze instantly when it came in contact with the outside air. Jaina had always joked that you could spit and have the saliva shatter on the ground by the time it hit. But walking along at a brisk pace under the ineffective noonday sun sobered her humorous outlook. The air she breathed in seemed almost solid in its crystallized form, constricting the muscles in her chest and lungs. By the time respiration was complete her body had warmed it, and the following exhale was nothing more than a cloud that temporarily blinded her until she walked through it.

Hanna stumbled beside her, clutching Jaina's hand to keep from tripping. It was no wonder. Jaina had blanketed her like a mummy, covered in thermals, clothes, and three parkas. Her hands were wrapped in two sets of goulashes, and the fur hood cinched tight under her chin framed her round face like a mane. "Mommy," she gasped, her breath temporarily masking her face, "it's so cold."

"I know," Jaina said, squeezing her hand in return. "We'll be inside the heat shield in just a second." After conferring with Syal over Jag's predicament, she had spent the next two weeks covertly searching through Chiss files and eavesdropping on conversations. None of it had been easy, considering it was becoming harder and harder to move around. The fact that Hanna could rarely be persuaded to stay with Syal didn't help things either. Worst of all, though, was making sure the CEDF remained ignorant of her presence. It's not as if there were an inordinate amount of pregnant human females running around Csaplar. Jaina wasn't sure she had ever been more thankful for her skills as a Jedi. 

After another week of coming up empty-handed, Jaina had almost decided to give up and return home. But Jag still needed her, and it was beyond her power to give up on him. The evidence was too incriminating. Without something to discredit it she might lose him forever.

Unfortunately, Space Patrol had forced them to move the _Always_ from the Fel mansion to the public ports in Csaplar. It hadn't really endangered anything since Syal had 'bought' it and transferred in there under a different name and title, but made getting the things she needed much more inconvenient. Especially since the outdoor walkway from the landspeeder parking area to the docking bays had been temporarily put under construction, leaving it open to the elements.

Jaina had rarely spent a moment in the past two weeks not in anxiety over her husband. Not only because there was a chance he could be taken from her and imprisoned for who knows how long, but also because Csilla brought up so many memories she had lost along the way. It reminded her of the person she had once been, and all the things that had transpired as a young wife married to a man she hardly knew, fighting a strange and persistent attraction to him that wouldn't be put away. She remembered the night she had first confessed her love for him. It had been as much a surprise to her as to him, but had led to a more than pleasant outcome that night.

Jaina felt her face as well as other things warm at the memory, and hoped Hanna's Force sense hadn't picked up on any of that. But this place reminded her of the crazy exuberance that followed, the wild youthful recklessness that had tossed them through three governments and war while still holding each other above all other precedences. Somehow they had lost that along the way, and only now was that full loss apparent to Jaina. It almost killed her. She wanted her husband back, in so many ways. 

She felt her stomach knot in anxiety that was now familiar, but it was intense enough to make her temporarily break her stride. Running a hand over her stomach with a wince, Jaina took the last few steps that would take her inside the heat shield. She heard Hanna sigh with relief and give a final shiver, shaking the snow from her hood and shoulders.

The _Always_ loomed before them, its sleek silver hull glinting in unison with the snow outside the dock. If something in the case didn't break soon, they would be re-commandeering the IDY-1000 space yacht and heading home, where they could at least lend Jag their support in person.

"Hanna, I'm just going to grab a new datapad out of the lounge and then we can head back to Grandma's house," she told her. Jaina had put hers under so much abuse during the past two weeks and before that it had finally gave out and died on her.

"Okay," Hanna agreed, tugging at the knot holding her hood on her head. "Can I take this off?"

"No, not yet, we're going back outside in just a minute."

She entered the access codes into the ships entry pad, then trotted up the ramp and inside. After a few minutes of searching, she found the extra datapad and exited quickly, hoping anyone that saw might think her extra bulk was due to the parka, and that she was only Syal. It was a lucky coincidence in her mind that she happened to be of the same stature and size as her mother-in-law, at least normally when she wasn't carrying a baby.

Jaina and Hanna had made it perhaps three steps when a pain so great there were no words to describe it attacked her from nowhere. It felt as if she was being stabbed repeatedly, her skin peeled off like a fruit and muscle fibers ripped away. The ground rushed up at her and she had no way of stopping it, her hands occupied as they clutched at her writhing form. Due to her training as a Jedi or reflexes as a pilot, she managed to roll slightly, landing on her side instead of her anterior. Her skull cracked against the ferrocrete, drawing blood and snagging away skin near her temple. All this she understood, but didn't feel.

All there was was pain, a torment so deep it blinded her. She imagined it was something akin to being eaten alive by some beast, her entrails torn out by jagged teeth. Numb fingers clutched the inside of her thighs, feeling with her digits as well as her own skin the water and blood. Something about that tickled her brain, but that was numb too; she couldn't register the meaning, everything was swallowed up in a white fire that consumed her. 

"Mommy!"

The voice was faint, distant, faceless. 

Small hands touched her tear-streaked face, their own palms wet with saltwater. "Mama."

Something in that voice brought her back a measure of reality. She still could barely speak, couldn't think at all, but she knew one thing: she needed help. "Hanna," she croaked, then stopped as her back arched with a stabbing affliction. One more word, just one more word. "Comlink." 

Hanna Fel could never remember being so scared in her whole life. Mommy was someone who took care of her. What was she supposed to do when Mommy couldn't take care of herself? She could protect her from other people, but how could she protect her from something that wasn't there?

"Mama," she said again, holding her face in her tiny hands. She wanted to scream at her to wake up, to get up, to stop crying and tell her what to do. Daddy would know what to do. But then she remembered: Daddy was in jail. He couldn't help. Maybe Uncle Chak then. Someone, anyone.

Hanna looked up, feeling tears swell in her emerald eyes. There was no one around. "Help me!" she screamed. "Help Mommy!"

"Hanna." 

She stopped, looking down at Mommy. Her hands were still clutched in fists between her legs, covered in blood. Hanna turned around and threw up on the sidewalk. On hands and knees, she wiped her mouth and eyes, distraught in her inability to help. It wasn't just Mommy, either. Whatever was hurting her had to be hurting Hanna's little brother, too.

"Comlink," Mommy ground out again, and suddenly Hanna understood. Still, she hesitated. Daddy had forbid her to play with the comlinks after she had called him during an important meeting while Mommy was sleeping. But surely he would forgive her, just this once, wouldn't he?

Mommy screamed again, and Hanna fumbled through her pockets trying to find the little metal thing that might help save her. Finally her small hand found it, and she pulled it out nervously. A chubby thumb pressed the small button and she cried. "Uncle Chak?"

No one answered.

Hanna couldn't see, her tears made everything blurry. She wiped at them with her free hand and cried. "Uncle Chak!"

Suddenly a voice answered her. "Hanna?" 

"Grandma," Hanna wept. "Mommy...needs...needs...hurting...Mommy," she choked on her sobs, trying to stop the hammering headache that had began when Mommy had first got sick.

"Oh Hanna, what's wrong? Where are you, what's going on?"

"Help," she cried. "Help!" 

Another voice, one not over the comlink, started speaking close by. Hanna looked up to see a blue man running towards her, speaking in some language she didn't know. Hanna stood shakily, waving her hands. "Help Mommy!"

He had his own comlink out and was talking quickly as he rolled Mommy onto her back. She knelt beside him, forgetting Grandma and the comlink and trying to hold Mommy's hand, but they were balled too tightly into fists. 

Within minutes there were other blue people running around, but none of them could stop the hurt Hanna could sense in her mother. Then one of them scooped her into their arms and carried her off, even as she screamed to be left.

What if she never saw her again?

Jag rolled over on his cot, the hard surface making his muscles sore and stiff. The processed air was a few degrees too cold to be comfortable, and the thin prisoner's uniform did little to help with that. A silver slab of wall stretched up to the ceiling in front of him, undecorated and indistinct. He pressed his forehead to the cold surface, trying to find some measure of relief from the headache he had suffered with since his arrest. 

The situation he was currently in was too ironic to be serious or humorous. He had lived the first eighteen years of his life dedicating every speck of energy and time on being the very best pilot and officer to could be. It had been his life, his sanity. A purpose. In some ways it had been an obsession, a chance to prove himself on a world where he was constantly being judged and tested, even by his own family.

He had given more than that. His very life had been laid on an altar and sacrificed for the good of a government who had given him nothing. They had taken his freedom and leashed him to a stranger who had—at first—given him no respect and consideration and had done everything in her power to rebel against his most trivial of wishes.

After that matter had resolved, he had thrown away every accomplishment, every accolade and achievement he had ever received to switch governments in the hopes of saving the galaxy. He had even been separated from his wife, almost lost her to a war he had no obligation to fight, other than that of a moral one.

After that, he had lost the best thing that had ever happened to him to keep the fragile alliance between the NR and Empire together. He had spent hours of overtime negotiating and haggling with witless politicians who had no interest in the wellbeing of those they represented, only themselves. His reasoning had been that if the he made the galaxy a more stable, safe place, his family would benefit.

After spending nearly a month in a jail cell with nothing but his thoughts, he knew that wasn't true. His whole life he had defined himself in his work, in his monetary and military success. That was _who he was_. He was a General, and and Ambassador, and a damn good one at that. If he wasn't successful—no, not successful, the _best_—then what good was he?

All of that had been turned on its head with one simple act.

Suddenly he was a traitor, a treasonous Chiss spy whose sole purpose in life was to ruin to the New Republic. Not only that, he was an Imperial conspirator, a part of the diabolical plan to take back the Imperial glory of old under a new banner, one that offered justice and goodwill with one hand and slit throats with a bloody dagger in the other. All the things he had done, everything he had forfeited for the different governments he had served, the entire galaxy...it all faded under a lie.

Had any of it been worth it? Probably not. In fact, Jag readily believed that his marriage was in its final death throes, even if he somehow managed to dig himself out of the mess he was currently in. He had become so separate from Jaina, so isolated within himself. It wasn't all his fault, he knew that, she had certainly gave no great effort to bring back what they had once shared. But that was beside the point. The fact was he had no idea who he was anymore, let alone who she was. All he had was memories of who they had once been.

He claimed to love her. Every beat of his heart ached to declare she was the reason he continued to live, completed him, and all that other sappy dribble that cluttered the holodramas. He wanted that. But if he was utterly, completely, unequivocally honest with himself, it just wasn't so. 

The man he had been loved the Jaina he had met years before under those awful circumstances. But he wasn't that man anymore, and had no idea if she was still that woman. How long had it been since he had made love to her and thought he might die, because knowing her so fully shouldn't be something he could experience and then live? How long had it been since they had stayed up half the night talking about meaningless things that made up who they really were? Nowadays, he didn't even talk to her if it wasn't about politics, the military, or the children. Occasionally they would talk about the move to Bastion, or fight over something stupid when it was really a cover for their frustration, but that was it.

All of that was true, and he could no longer ignore it. But there were other truths as well.

He didn't want to lose her. He wanted back that closeness, that tie that had made the simple thought of going a day without holding her make him shiver with dread. He wanted to remember every curve of her body, the scent of her hair, and most importantly he wanted to know exactly what she was thinking. At one time, he had been able to read her like an open book, knew her every thought and desire and whim, and absolutely _loved_ the person she was. He had loved her strength, her passion and fire, her wit and humor, her skill as a pilot and affection as a mother. He couldn't have made her any more perfect if he had ordered exactly what he wanted in a wife out of a holocatalog. Even her reckless abandon that had threatened to give him a heart attack on more than one occasion, it excited him, drew him out of the solemn and grim shell he had built for himself. She was strange and different to his Chiss-raised mind, and everything about her had been exciting.

He hadn't felt that way in a very long time. Somehow, she had stopped being all those things. She had become a measured and even housewife, tempered and stern and bland. Not that he hadn't done all those things as well. When he looked back he thought of how bored she must have been with him, coming home every night with nothing more to say than to give complaints on how ridiculous politicians were.

Coruscant had changed them, poured them into a different mold and reshaped who they were. And consequently, the new Jaina and Jag just didn't get along very well. He was smart enough to know they would never again be the people they had been during the war, but he also knew that neither of them were themselves. _Those_ people, the essence of who they were inside—they fit together perfectly. They needed to each revive the persons they were; only then could they ever be happy together again.

The door to his cell slid suddenly open. He rolled away from the wall to look over his shoulder at the guardsman who had been assigned to his cell. Jag had considered breaking out on more than one occasion, thought of several ways how to, but didn't really want to take the risk until he had no other choice. "General," the officer began, "a visitor for you."

Good, maybe it was word on Jaina. He didn't know what had possessed her to run off like that, but in some ways it gave him hope. Not only for a future where he was free, but for a future with the woman he had married. It reminded him of something she would have done then, and maybe part of that woman still lived.

He rose unenthusiastically, the stretch of his unused muscles making his legs ache slightly. He ignored it, stepping out the door and following the guard down the corridor lined with identical cell banks. His hands were in binders, tied in front of him to prevent escape. They grew sore now and then and the guards would remove them for a day or two, but usually he was confined.

The door to the visiting room opened and he stepped inside, hoping to see Jacen or maybe even Jaina. Instead, it was one of the last people he had ever expected to see.

Jag sat, stunned, and for a few seconds said nothing. After finding his tongue, "Dr. Banks?"

She smiled shyly, looking nervous and maybe a little ill. "Hello Jag. How are you faring?"

Jag scowled. She had called him by his informal first name only a scant few times before then. What was going on? "As well as can be expected, I suppose," he answered warily.

"That is good," she smiled again, clutching her purse that laid in her lap until her knuckled turned white.

A moment of awkward silence fell between them. "Is," Jag began slowly, "there something I can do for you?"

"Oh, no," she stammered, blushing. "I just—" Looking flustered, she stopped, biting her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

Jag frowned again, cocking his head to one side in curiosity. "For what?"

"Well, I..." she trailed off, then finally heaved a defeated sigh. "There's something I need to tell you."

Jag raised his eyebrows. Had she found a cure for Chak, some sort of medical wonder that could heal his brother? "Tell me."

The excited tone in his voice seemed to encourage her. "How long have I known you?" she began.

"About four years, I guess," Jag answered, wondering where this was going. Maybe it wasn't good news. Maybe it was bad. Hard conversations often did start like this.

She nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on some point in her lap. "And during this time, have you ever known me to do anything unorthodox or unprofessional?"

"No, never, you've been a fabulous doctor," he answered truthfully. He wasn't sure what he and Jaina would have done if she hadn't been there to help with Chak.

She looked up then, meeting his eyes squarely. "That's very important. I want you to remember that when you hear what I have to say. Because I'm not a bad person, I'm really not, and I would never want you to misinterpret my reason for telling you all this."

Jag was starting to become confused. "I don't think I understand."

She broke down then, and everything gushed forth like from a fountain. "I've tried to hide it, tried to ignore it, but it's all been in vain. I don't want to feel this way, but I do. I love you. Gods, I love you."

Jag blinked. No matter how hard he tried, his mind refuse to acknowledge the words that had just come from her mouth. He had to have heard her incorrectly, hadn't he? "Wait. What?"

She wiped a solitary tear from her left eye. "I know you're married, Jag, and I know you have a family, and I am so terribly sorry. I just can't help it. I'd thought—well, I'd thought that there was no point in torturing you with this when you were happily married. But I was talking to Danni today, and well—"

"Danni _Quee_?" Jag asked.

Ismene nodded. "She's been working for me for some time now. And well, she said that you're in fact _not_ happy at all, and that you're marriage was arranged, and that you or Jaina one would probably ask for a divorce soon. And I, well, I just..." she trailed off, holding her head as if she had a sudden headache. Two more tears slipped from her eyes. "And I just love you so much. I couldn't help but think that if there was any chance at all that you felt the same way..." she looked up then, her comment obviously leading him to confess his own heart's desire. 

Jag thought he might not even be able to breathe. This was so terrible that there were no words. One, this poor girl might as well have signed her own death warrant, because if Jaina found out there would be nothing left but a grease spot on the sidewalk. Two, he was going to have to break her heart. And three...well, it added a whole new layer to his dilemma with Jaina and their marriage.

After he didn't speak, Ismene looked away from him, obviously trying to reign her emotions back in and make herself a little more dignified in her response to whatever he said. "Dr. Banks...Ismene," he began slowly.

Hope lit up in her eyes, and he repressed a wince.

"I am terribly flattered. And I am also terribly sorry."

Her face fell, but he pressed on.

"You are an intelligent, talented, beautiful young woman, and any man would be lucky to have you. But I'm a married man. I'm committed to Jaina, and our children. And even if I didn't love her like I do, I respect her far too much to ever do something like that to her. I am sorry, sorry for hurting you, and for anything I may have done to unintentionally encourage you in this."

She actually smiled, a sad, despondent sort of smile. "I supposed as much. But I couldn't go another day without telling you. Truthfully, I would hate myself more than you would be worth if I took you from Jaina. But I had to tell you. And I had to see."

He nodded, knowing there was nothing else he could say. She stood slowly, straightening her clothes and wiping her eyes. "Good luck with your trial, General."

"Thank you," he responded quietly. He watched her leave, then continued to sit. He had thought a few minutes before that the complications in his life couldn't possibly get any worse. He had been wrong. 


	9. Chapter 9: Weakening

**Chapter 9: Weakening**

From the moment of his first consciousness, Chak Fel had lived a sheltered and easy life. No one had come to him to confide secrets, or compel upon him to complete some task, or even burdened his mind with anything remotely upsetting or disturbing. He was still fragile, they said. But now, running down the medical corridor looking for some sign of his sister-in-law or niece, he had to wonder if there was not _something_ they could have done to prepare him for an eventuality such as this.

A scant ten minutes before Syal had commed him, weeping her eyes out, and told him of a distressing call from Hanna. She hadn't answered any of her questions, only cried, and then hung up. Out of her mind with worry, she had set out for Csaplar at once, and commed him—he had been grocery shopping, one of the few chores he had been given on Csilla—to go to the medical center and see if anyone knew anything. 

What had happened? Had Jaina been discovered? She certainly had now, but was that the reason for his niece's distress? He didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to be there, even if there was nothing he could do.

A familiar voice reached his ears, one that was decidedly under duress. Chak turned in that direction, and a few seconds later entered a small waiting room where a Chiss medical professional was attempting to restrain the four-year-old human girl with minimal success. She was Jaina Solo's daughter, after all. 

"Mooooohhhmmmmyyyy!!" Hanna squealed in a long and high-pitched timbre. "Let me go! I have to help Mommy!!" She caught sight of Chak, and her eyes grew large and rose a shade of green. "Uncle Chak! Uncle Chak, help me!"

In two strides he was there, taking her roughly from the Chiss's tiring arms. "What are you doing with her? Where's her mother?"

The blue man's red pupils grew round. "Who are you? Who are these humans?" 

Overcome with a biting anger and concern, Chak grabbed him roughly round the collar. "Listen to me you little Son of a Hutt, this is _my_ niece. I demand to know where you found her, under what conditions, and where the hell is her mother?"

Blue lids narrowed into glowing slits. He gestured to the left, into a small room. Chak, still carrying Hanna under one arm, hurried to the transparisteel panel that allowed him to see inside. Jaina lay in state on a sterilized operation table, a flood of medics and healers running around with instruments and scanners.

"Chak!" a new voice said.

He turned to look, only to see Syal running to his side. She skidded to a halt beside him, almost pressing her nose to the glass. "Oh no. What happened?" She looked to Hanna, immediately taking her from Chak and clutching her to her chest for dear life. She muttered something thankful sounding softly under her breath. Even though Jaina had only been on Csilla three weeks, Syal had become extremely attached to her granddaughter. Even if Jaina was in danger, having Hanna safe must mean the world to her.

Chak looked around, eyes roving over the different people. One doctor that had been inside stepped out of the operating room, and Chak was on him like a leech. "What's wrong with her? What's going on?"

He looked up, suspicious. "You know her?"

He made and anxious gesture. The man glanced back at the room where Jaina lay. "It seems her body is attempting to miscarry the fetus."

A lump formed in his throat, and it took all his strength to keep from vomiting it up. He wasn't very knowledgeable of things like that, but 'miscarry' was one word he knew he didn't want to hear. He ran a hand over a sweaty brow, wanting to crawl in a hole somewhere and hide from the awful truth of the world. Behind him, Syal made a choking sound, tears evident in the noise. "Why?" she demanded, coming to stand beside Chak.

The healer shrugged, noncommittal. "She seems to have no other apparent physical ailments. Has she been under and inordinate amount of stress lately?"

Chak and Syal exchanged a glance. 'Inordinate' was an understatement. Jaina had been killing herself ever since she had arrived. The healer took their expressions as confirmation. "Since the fetus is an alien presence in her body, it is likely that her body recognizes it as the source of strain, and so is trying to expel it to save itself." 

Syal hugged Hanna a little tighter. "What can be done?" 

He looked back to where Jaina lay. She was pale, dark brown hair and eyebrows standing out in contrast to her wan skin tone. Sweat glistened on her skin, a grimace of pain contorting her face even in her unconscious state. "Take the baby and hope for the best."

Chak's eyes widened. "She's barely seven months!" 

He shrugged again. "If the birth completes on its own, the mother's life will be in less danger, but the child will die. If we take the baby, it will most likely live but there is a possibility of mental impairment, and there is a risk to the mother as well." His red eyes flicked to Syal. "Since she is in your care, I will need to have your approval on what action to take."

Syal turned a sickly shade of gray, aging ten years before his eyes. "I can't," she whispered. With the last of her energy she handed Hanna back over to Chak. "I just...I can't make a decision like this. Chak," she grabbed his arm in a pleading manner. "Chak, what would Jag want? What would Jaina want?"

He closed his eyes, knowing that if he was wrong anywhere from one to four lives hinged on his decision. But he had spent the last two years in constant companionship with Jaina Solo-Fel. He had been with her throughout the first seven months of her pregnancy. He knew what she would want. "Do everything in your power to save the baby," he said at last. "Safely. All precautions. Jaina wouldn't care what damage it did to her own body. Just save the baby."

With those words, he might have condemned his brother to be a widower and single father. 

But it was what Jaina would want, and that he knew for certain.

Wyn and Soontir had arrived shortly after, and Cem would have if not for the extreme import on keeping his presence a secret. But Hanna seemed unable to bear up under the strain, so Wyn had taken her back to the mansion while they waited. Syal had refused to leave her vigil, so Soontir had left temporarily to find them something to eat. Chak seemed unable to do anything but sit with his head in his hands. If something happened to either of them he didn't know how he would ever face his brother again.

A soft, small hand ran itself over his back, muscles tense and taut. "Chak," his mother whispered softly.

He looked over at her, seeing the same despair in her red-rimmed eyes as in his own. "What?" he croaked, voice hoarse from unshed tears.

"I know," she stopped, a hand covering her mouth as she composed herself, "I know that this isn't the time. But...I noticed something earlier. Did Jag teach you Cheuhn?"

He frowned deeply. Where was this coming from? It seemed hardly the time or place to be asking something so trivial. Jaina and her baby's life hung in the balance. "No. Why?"

Hope and tears muddled her blue eyes, and she took his hand tightly in her owns. "Chak, you were talking to that healer in Cheuhn."

He snorted a laugh, scoffing at the notion. "No I didn't."

She nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes you did. Watch." Her mouth emitted a string of perfectly fluent Chiss phrases. _You see, you do understand what I am saying. And I'm not speaking Basic!_ his mind translated instantly. Chak blinked, trying to register the great significance of her words.

Was he...was he starting to remember things? 

"Kriff," he whispered. "What does this mean?"

Her grip on his hand grew to bone-crushing force. "It means that my son is coming back," she said, voice intense and strained with emotion. 

Chak shook his head, confused. "We can talk about this later," then he disengaged his hand from hers.

He wasn't ready for this. He just wasn't.

The door to the operating room slid open abruptly, and the medic from earlier stepped through, looking weary and solemn. Syal stood, drawing him up beside her and clutching his bicep for strength. "Well," the man began, and Chak observed with a strange gleeful sight that he could indeed understand every word he said, "The surgery is complete."

"And?" Chak demanded anxiously.

He sighed. "Both are alive, but we haven't been able to stabilize the mother as of yet."

Syal buried her face in his shoulder, weeping openly with a mixture of grief and relief. They were alive. That was half the battle. Chak wrapped one arm around her but stood tall, waiting to hear the rest. "What else?"

"There is no definite answer at this time, but we believe the child is in good health, with no side effects. He will, however, have to remain under the oxygen tent for a few days." 

"What about Jaina?" Chak demanded. "Will she be okay?" 

"She's lost a lot of blood, and at the moment we don't have any that match her human blood type. She's on her own. All we can do is wait and see."

_I've tried to hide it, tried to ignore it, but it's all been in vain. I don't want to feel this way, but I do. I love you. Gods, I love you._

Jag blinked at his ceiling, willing her cursed voice out of his head. He wished she had never said anything, had never told him about her stupid feelings. Why, why the hell would anyone want to go and fall in love with him? One, he was married. Two, it wasn't as if he was the friendliest or most amiable person in the galaxy. And three, he hadn't even had a normal conversation with anyone in about a year, certainly not with Ismene.

What was wrong with this woman? Was she deranged, or just pitifully desperate? No, that couldn't be it. She was beautiful, what guy in their right mind wouldn't want her? She had a good job, a sweet disposition, a good sense of humor. She couldn't be desperate for companionship.

Then why fall in love with him, of all people? Maybe, maybe it was just some sort of perceived image of him she was in love with.

And maybe it wasn't.

What if, just what if, despite all his faults and bad temperament, she saw who he was, and had fallen in love with him? Was that even possible? Could she have done what Jaina, his wife of five years, hadn't done?

Jag just didn't know what to think about that. In all the time he had felt so separated from Jaina, he had never once considered that maybe the problem wasn't that they weren't being open, being themselves...but that maybe they were being themselves, and they just didn't want each other anymore.

It was the most depressing thought he had ever had.

Perhaps there really wasn't any hope. People, relationships, they changed. Maybe he and Jaina had changed too much. As young, impulsive kids they had been in love, but now they were all grown up. After maturing, was it possible that it had all been a brief flight of fancy, two kids dealing with a bad situation the best way they knew how? Wasn't it normal, that after being driven together like that, they may have developed fleeting feelings for each other that dissipated after time?

Could it be that in the end they were meant to go their separate ways?

The thought stopped him cold, and Jag banged his head roughly on the metal cot as punishment, with such force that he temporarily saw nothing but white. What the hell was wrong with _him_? Had he just actually been considering _having an affair_? No, no no no no no.

He had to get out of here. It was going to drive him crazy, or to something even more foolish.

Jag closed his eyes, calling to memory his wife's face. She was so beautiful. What could he possibly want besides her? He remembered the first night he had ever made love to her. It had been too good to be true. Somehow he knew, he _knew_, that if he could just kiss her, feel her skin under his aching fingers, smell the intoxicating aroma inherent to her...the world would right itself again. They could start over, find themselves in each other. That's what he wanted, above all other things.

The thought returned some measure of sanity to him. He knew what had to be done. He had to get out, find his wife, and make things right between them. No distractions, no other options. It was do or die, and Jag had a lot of living left to do.

Syal Antilles Fel wiped her eyes and stepped into the nursery, falling into one of her composed and serene roles. It was her shield and her strength, the ability to become someone else when faced with a debilitating situation. Wynssa Starflare only went so far, though, before collapsing and leaving Syal alone. Hopefully this time she could remain strong until she was by herself, and no doubt then she would crumble in on herself. But this needed to be done. The child needed to know he was loved.

Her newest grandchild had been placed in an oxygen rich bed, fluids pumped intravenously through his little arms and an oxygen tent draped over the cradle. Syal gripped the railings on the side of the crib, ignoring the stares from other healers in the nursery. This baby needed someone.

The first thing that struck her about his was how small he was. Only a little longer than the length of her hand and far too thin, Syal wondered at the fact that he lived at all. She supposed for his premature birth he was where he should be, but her mind rebelled against it. All six of her children had been double his size. The tiny fingers were white and dispirited, limbs almost flimsy looking. Tufts of light brown hair stuck out from his head, and as she watched him small green eyes squinted open, his mouth puckering unhappily. _Of course you're unhappy_, Syal thought sadly. _You don't know where your Mommy is._

"Ma'am?" A feminine voiced asked off to her right.

Syal turned away reluctantly to face the speaker. It was a nurse, young by even Chiss standards and very pretty. "Have you chosen a name yet?"

Syal shook her head. "That's not my decision. We'll wait until the mother is well enough to name him." 

The woman looked doubtful. "Maybe a surname, then?" 

"Fel," Syal said, touching the curtain separating her from the baby wistfully.

The nurse scribbled something on her datapad. "He's due for a feeding. Would you like to hold him?" 

The Wynssa Starflare guise cracked and fell in pieces around her. "Can I?" Her voice sounded weak and childlike to her own ears. The nurse nodded, smiling uncharacteristically. She led Syal to an old-fashioned chair, one that rocked back and forth on its legs. She took a seat, and the nurse brought her grandson out of the oxygen tent. She bundled his up securely in layers of thermal blankets, but even then he looked small.

As he was placed in her arms tears fell unhindered down her face, staining her shirt and his blanket. "Oh, child," she whispered, holding him close. "Will you ever know peace?" He looked at her with his bright green eyes, and she bit her lower lip against a sob. If Jaina...if Jaina died, and if Jag was convicted of his crimes, who would take care of him and his sister? Jaina had family on Coruscant, but in that moment she was utterly unwilling to release him to them. "I'm going to take care of you," she whispered in Basic so the nurse would not understand. "And you will be loved. 


	10. Chapter 10: Remembrance

**Chapter 10: Remembrance**

There was an unexplainable emptiness inside her, an ache that swelled with each breath in its painfulness. She felt hollow and alone, more alone than she had ever been in her life. Something, something had gone terribly wrong. 

Jaina had heard stories of people who claimed to have come back inexplicably from the dead. It was always associated with a bright light, voices even. But as far as Jaina knew, that hadn't happened to any Jedi. It was probably because their bodies disappeared after death.

Still, Jaina had the uneasy feeling she was on the verge of dying. Surprisingly, there was no fear associated with the knowledge, only a lingering sadness. But why should she be sad? There was a peaceful feel to the light surrounding her, a peace she had never found in life. Her life had been filled with strife and unfortunate circumstances. Perhaps in this place she would finally learn all the things about the Force her uncle knew, meet Yoda and Ben Kenobi, even her grandfather.

Wait. Her children.

The thought send an arch of unpleasant feelings through her, the longing and love she felt for them soaring back into her consciousness. She couldn't die, couldn't, they needed her. A constriction formed in her windpipe as she imagined her beautiful little Hanna growing up without a mother. And her son...

_That_ was it, that was the vacuum under her ribs that made breathing and even the beating of her heart a forced and laborious exercise. Her baby was gone.

The part of her that was still aware of her physical being knew her fists clenched, her teeth grind together as a tear slipped out of her eye. Where was he, her child, her baby? There was no life growing inside of her, no sense of...of Jag.

A whole new agony blossomed, and she knew that there was no relief for it. Carrying this baby, their child, it reminded her not only of a time when they had been closer than she thought any two people could be, but allowed her to _stay_ close to him. He was always with her, the product of their love nestled safely in her womb where she could nourish and protect it in a way she was unable to do with their real relationship.

But that didn't seem as important as the fact that she had no idea where he was. Was he? No, he couldn't be dead. She would know. So where was her son? If something had happened...a fear like she had never known before coalesced in her heart. She loved him, oh how she loved that child. She couldn't live if something had happened to him.

_Jaina_...

Someone was calling her.

She sighed. She had to fight, had to draw on the Force to bring her out of this and back to her family. Her babies. Her husband. There was a clarity in that knowledge that had previously been absent in her. Jag wasn't just some fling or some random person she could dismiss out of hand. He was her partner, her ally, her friend, her lover, the father of her children, her _husband_. Her marriage was something worth fighting for. Jag was worth fighting for. She wouldn't give up on him, never.

"Jaina, wake up." 

And she was awake with a start, brown eyes flying open just as she sucked in an uneven breath. She heard the rapid beeping of a heart monitor and a thousand different chemical smells. Lights shone blindingly bright, causing her to squint. "I am awake," she said, but it came out more like, "_I eema wick_."

"Come on, honey, fight it." She took another shuddering breath. Fight it. Fight it. "That's it, Jaina. Wake up."

Her blurred vision cleared, and she recognized the place as a med ward. "Hanna," she croaked, concern for her daughter clouding the importance of the fact that she was in a hospital.

"She's fine, Jaina. Just fine. It's okay now. You're all fine," the soothing voice continued.

A single tear slipped down her cheek as her hand found the flat of her stomach and her fears were confirmed. "My son."

"He's a bit shaky, like you, but he's alive. He needs you, Jaina. Live for him."

More tears that she couldn't control. "Syal?" 

"Yes, sweetie?"

"How do you live? How...how do you go on?" She didn't need to clarify. They were two mothers, and the unspoken subject needed no elucidation.

A small, thin hand clamped around hers. "It's not easy," her mother-in-law whispered and Jaina could hear the saltiness in her own voice. "You take it a day at a time. You wake up and remember that they're gone. You eat and they're not there. They'll never be there again. So you cry. But you still breathe. That's the trick. Remembering to keep breathing."

Jaina cried. She cried for her children who she feared would slip through her grasp. She cried for her broken marriage. But most of all she cried for the mother beside her who knew the pain of losing a baby. "I'm so sorry."

The same small hands soothed the hair out of her face. "I know. Me too." 

"Where is he?"

"In the nursery. I've been visiting him. He misses you."

She found the strength to look over, and saw the older woman's features clouded by tears and streaked makeup. "What happened?" Syal bit her lower lip, obviously hiding something. "Tell me."

"All the stress, it caused you to miscarry. But it's okay, Jaina, it's fine, you're both fine."

Jaina turned back to the ceiling, not wanting Syal to see her shame. It was her own fault. She had almost cost her son's life and deprived her daughter of a mother. It was all her on her. "Jag's going to kill me."

There was a deep silence that Jaina knew had an underlying meaning. Her head snapped back around to see Syal wide eyed and pale. "I haven't told him," she whispered.

"What?" Jaina stammered. "Why?"

"So he can worry himself sick while we have no idea whether he really needs to worry or not?" Syal asked defensively. "I wanted to wait until we knew."

Jaina ran weak and shaking fingers through her hair. "Go ahead and make the call."

"I have news."

Jag looked up at Kolivin, observing the lawyer grimly. He had done a good job as an attorney, had done everything, in Jag's mind, that could be done. But some mountains were too hight to climb. Such was it with the charges against Jag. It wouldn't be long now, till his sentencing. He fully expected to be locked away for good, the solitude and his agony as his only companions. It was a sobering knowledge. "Will it get me out of here?"

Kolivin was unusually dispirited, the emotion completely foreign on his jovial features. "No. Jag, I received as call from your brother-in-law about an hour ago. He wanted to come tell you himself, but they aren't letting you have visitors anymore."

Fear wasn't at home in Jag's heart. He didn't fear things he couldn't change and had enough faith in himself to change the things he could. That is, when it came to his own fate. When it came to the people he loved, the fight against fear was raised on a whole new level. "What is it? What's happened?"

Kolivin winced, either at Jag's tone or the news he bore. "It's the baby, Jag. Jaina's miscarried." 

Jag Fel had cried five times in his life. The first three had been at the death of his siblings. The fourth when they had told him he had to marry Jaina. The fifth the first time they had made love. But none of those times, none of the emotions he had felt, came anywhere near the devastation that crumpled him from the inside out. His head fell into his hands, but no matter how hard he pushed the tears squeezed through. _Gods, Jaina..._ he thought. He thought of her suffering, of the painful still birth she must have endured. And then he saw his son, lifeless, pale, empty. He would never hold him, watch him grow. He would never even set eyes on him. It was too much, and a wretched sob escaped his throat as he trembled with an unmanageable pain. The random injustice and disbelief coupled with a despair of knowing he and his life would never be the same again would have driven him to his knees, had he not already been sitting. "No..."

"Jag, wait, they're not dead. They're not dead, Jag, not yet. Close, but not yet."

He looked up, the confusion, hope, and despair all taking a place in his gaze. "What? You just said she miscarried!"

"She did! But they've stabilized them both, for the moment. Jaina's life is still in danger, but your mother said she thought they would both pull through."

There were no words in any language or vocal expression that were sufficient enough to describe his relief. He rested his forehead against the table, the tears continuing to flow but this time with a different emotion. How such complete anguish could so suddenly be assuaged was beyond him. It didn't matter. He was a father, his son had come into the galaxy to be the newest member of his family.

His family with Jaina. _Oh, Jaina, how could we have let this happen to us? What brought us to this place? Who are you now? I still need you, feel you, want you. I won't let us die. I won't lose you._

His hands balled into fists. It had come too close this time, the blow at his heart. He had taken a lot of pummeling in his life, especially the last year, but it didn't compare to the void that had opened in his heart only a few minutes before. The realization hit him for the first time: Hanna and that baby were _everything_ to him. And Jaina...Jaina was an angel in his darkness. What was the point of life, of having material things, or even raising those children, if he couldn't have her there to share his heart with? She gave a purpose to the air he breathed and his dreams were empty the moment he let her slip away.

And in a rush he remembered. He reclaimed the verity that had led him to loving her in the first place. He loved her because there wasn't another soul that had ever lived who could be his fantasy and his reality and everything in between. No one could he share such an intimacy with only by looking in their eyes. No one could exasperate him like her and still inspire such a sense of desire and admiration. No one could take away his reality and replace it with nothing but dreams and rainbows and leave him more sure of himself than before. No one could be so determined and reckless in the face of danger and still hold his children with all the tenderness and love in the galaxy. No one completed the whole of his self with such a perfect shape. They were two pieces of one heart, and the realization was an anchor he clung to with both fists. He belonged with her. It was written in the very threads of time, a truth that was forgotten but never lost. All they had to do was reach out and take it back.

"Mommy!"

Never had a single word inspired so many emotions, Jaina thought. She had wanted to be many things in her life, but she had come to terms with the fact that 'mommy' was a title she would rather have than any other. She dropped to one knee and opened her arms, sweeping her Hanna off the floor and into a crushing embrace. Caressing the soft black hair she whispered, "My brave little girl. I'm so sorry. So sorry."

When she looked into her green eyes there was no rebuke there, only love and acceptance. "You got sick, Mommy."

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Yes, I was. And you took very good care of me."

Hanna looked around the room, searching for something. "Where is he? Uncle Chak said the baby was here."

Jaina smiled wide. "He certainly is. But he's in the nursery right now, getting better. Do you want to go see him?"

Hanna nodded eagerly, and Jaina set her down, leading her towards the door. She had healed quickly, once she had had the presence of mind to put herself in a healing trance. The first thing she had done upon awaking was go to see her son. He was so very small, but more precious than any gold or jewel. The love she had felt for him the past seven months condensed into one swelling of her heart until she thought it might bust.

The near death experience had taught her many things. One, she understood the path the Force had set her on for the first time. It was her destiny to lead the Empire, from the bridge of a Star Destroyer instead of a cockpit. It was her destiny to raise these children into Jedi who knew the difference in right and wrong, who could resist the dark side and stand firm in the night when others trembled. It was her destiny to love Jagged Fel. 

And for the first time in over a year, she knew for certain that she still did. They had said and done things that should be forgotten, and she had tried to bury her pain under indifference. But it just wasn't so. She cared for him, always had, always would. There was finally a glimmer of hope for a future with him, and she wouldn't rest until she was complete again.

The nurse let her and Hanna inside, and they both went to the small crib her son had been placed in. Green eyes stared wide at them both, and Jaina couldn't help but smile. "Isn't he beautiful, Hanna?"

Hanna wrinkled her nose. "He's kind of red and wrinkly."

Jaina laughed, accepting her words as truth but knowing in her heart he was beautiful. "He'll grow out of it. You did."

Her hand reached out to trace the nameplate above his bed. It simply read 'Baby Fel'. He needed a name. Part of her felt guilty for naming him without any input from Jag, but he couldn't just go without a name until then. But maybe there was a way she could let Jag know she was thinking of him when she chose their son's name. Jagged Fel Jr., perhaps? No, too cliché. He would hate it. So what else?

A conversation from long ago echoed through her memory. It had been a time when Chak had gotten ill and Ismene thought he might not make it. They had stayed awake all night by his side. Jag had told her stories from his childhood, of how Chak had been his hero, and Davin his best friend.

"Davin," she tasted the name on her lips. She bent over, peering closely at the small face. "Do you like that? Davin Fel?"

One small hand trailed towards her, reaching up from out of the oxygen tent. Jaina smiled. "Davin it is."

"Jaina!" she spun, seeing her brother-in-law perched in the doorway, an urgent expression on his face. He motioned her over. Reluctantly she took Hanna by the hand and went to him. 

"What is it?"

"Soontir just called, and there's a representative from the CEDF and the Four Families coming here right now to take you into custody!" he whispered.

Her eyes grew wide and the grip on Hanna grew tight. "I have to get out of here. Where's Syal?"

He gestured wildly. "She went back to the mansion to get a bath and a fresh set of clothes."

Jaina chewed her lower lip. Then she shoved a finger in his face. "If anyone asks, I took Davin back to my room to feed him. You got me?" 

"Davin?"

Jaina smiled. "That's what I've decided to name him."

He nodded solemnly, understanding. Quickly she pulled him into a hug. "I love you, Chak. Take care." 

He smiled in return. 


	11. Chapter 11: Leaving the Past

**Chapter 11: Leaving the Past**

_"Do you think I want this any more than you do? Do you actually think I want to marry you? I haven't any more choice in this than you do. And I think I've been a whole lot more courteous about the whole damned situation than you have."_

The way the Csillian sky met the snow covered plains made the distinction between the cloudy atmosphere impossible, a beautiful cascade of whites and blues that mirrored and blended with each other into a mural of ice chips that paralleled the short spans of time Jaina had spent there. It was at once pacifying and unsympathetic, the calm appearance belying the lethal potency. The most tragic heartbreaks in her life had bent spent on the frigid globe of crystal, and she knew somewhere out there her tears were preserved by the glacial temperatures, an everlasting testament to her grievances. At the same time there were too many joys and memories for her to condemn the place. Reassuring and merciless. 

_"Anyone who can fly like that deserves to have a place in this military."_

The wind that blew through her hair was intense with its frosted quality. It was ethereal in form, worming through even the smallest of cracks between her skin and her clothes. Hairs all over her body stood on end and shivers traced her spine like the kindest and most vicious of lovers. The blood moving through her veins was thin and constricted in its flow and she could feel the beat of her heart in the surface of her skin. Her whole body pulsed. Whether that was due to the cold or the dread or a combination of both she wasn't sure, but her mind was fixated on something else entirely.

On the hundreds of memories this place held for her.

_"You do if you don't want us fighting every second for the rest of our lives. There has to be a modicum of deference from each of us, Jaina. You expect to be able to take advantage of my rank because we're married but don't want to treat me with even a little compliance. That's hypocritical."_

She had scaled the side of the hangar bay, clutching its smooth surface fiercely against the whipping wind and snow, and had only then reached it zenith where she could look down at the point of her destination as it appeared before her. Her limbs trembled with relief. She hated this, the waiting, the sneaking. She hated leaving her childrens' fate to other people's hands, however capable they may be. They just weren't her, and so they could never be good enough. She hated the fact that she just might be destroying the lives of people that she loved, and who loved her when she knew they shouldn't.

She was a selfish being, always had been. The knowledge didn't upset her, because the truth of it couldn't be denied and it seemed she didn't have the time to try and change it. She was balanced by a strange combination of the irremovable desire to martyr herself to everyone's cause and the tendency to do and be whatever she wanted. And even in the midst of that she ached for a sense of normality, to provide for her family in a way that a woman with the galaxy on her shoulders couldn't do. So she was caught in the middle, and that selfish desire to strive for all those things and give up none was what had brought her to the place she was now in.

_"That doesn't even compare to what you've done to me. I trusted you with so much, gave you so much. But it seems I was never more than a replacement for your family until you could reunite with them again. It didn't take long to forget you had 'loved' me did it, Jaina?"_

Her blue-tinged fingers that were half-frozen from the cold slipped inside her coat and touched the comlink there. "I'm ready," she whispered, noting the slight tremor in her voice as her teeth chattered together.

She had purposefully placed herself in the most unenviable position of the three, mainly because it was her ship, her fault, and quite possibly the end of her in-law's careers. If sitting in the cold for a half hour was the price she had to pay for that, then that would just have to be okay.

"Me too," Wyn's voice crackled back.

"And me," Cem replied.

_"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything. For yelling at you, for being so judgmental, but especially for letting myself be influenced into keeping you from what you deserve. I had no right to do that. There's nowhere I'd rather have you, Jaina, than right by my side. I love you. I'm so sorry."_

There was a silence in which Jaina hung with bated breath for the last reply. When it didn't come in three seconds she snapped, "Soontir? Syal? Chak?"

"Sorry, Jaina, we were trying to calm Davin," Syal explained a second later.

"It's okay. All you have to do is stay put until I give you the signal," Jaina explained.

"We know," Soontir replied icily. "Just get on with it. We don't have much time."

"We have to wait for the right moment," Jaina explained, eyeing the _Always_. Her ship, the one given to her on her wedding by a man who had been more influential in her life than any mere superior officer should be. Pellaeon had done so much for her family. She wondered if she would ever be able to thank him properly.

_"You've seen everything about my home and my life, and I know relatively nothing of yours. I want to go to Coruscant, meet your family, see your home."_

The moment came when the Chiss guards that had taken post around her ship changed shifts. Jaina's thumb depressed the button on her comlink automatically. "Go!"

She moved, sliding down the sloped roof of the docking bay where she had been perched in waiting and back into the heat shield. She broke out immediately in a sweat, the change in temperature enough to make a normal person ill. Fortunately, she was far from normal.

The slick surface of the roof was slanted at such an angle that she was close to a free fall. Rolling onto her back she braced the heels of her boots, causing an awful screeching sound and leaving two brown skid marks in its path. At the same time she counted down in her head, watching the reactions of the Chiss guards as they turned and aimed their charrics in her direction. At the precise moment their shots would have struck her she leaped, moving almost laterally across the hangar to land hard on the top of the _Always_.

By the time her feet touched its hull new shots had rang out, both Wyn and Cem moving from their positions and taking out the guards she had distracted. Jaina didn't take time to ponder it but yanked her lightsaber of her belt and felt the violet flame leap to life in her hand. She jumped again, falling into their midsts swinging. She tried her best not to even injure, just knock them out with a Force punch or disable their charrics, but that only lasted so long. Eventually she nicked a hand here or an elbow there. It wasn't pleasant, but she did manage to keep from killing any of them.

And that was more than she could say for Wyn and Cem. Their precision was almost eerie, and not once did any of their shots come towards her. It was hard on her, fighting Chiss, so she could only imagine how it was for them. For Cem, it might not be so hard, he had almost nothing to do with them. But for Wyn, who was already employed in their armed forces... it must be killing her. Just another reason to feel guilty. 

When the smoke cleared and her family by marriage appeared it was all Jaina could do to hold back her tears. She looked up at the sky, the wash of memories she had experienced the whole time concentrating into that moment. So many important moments in her life had happened here. And even more than that, moments that had seemed inconsequential at the time but were now so precious to her. The foundations of her love for Jag had been built here.

Syal, Soontir, and Chak appeared out of the shadows, little Davin in Syal's arms and Hanna snuggled against her grandfather—whom she had formed a peculiar attachment to the past few weeks and especially the days Jaina had been unconscious. "There's so much to say that can't be said," Jaina told her mother-in-law, realizing she didn't have the time or words. Carefully she pulled her son into her arms. He was still small and fragile, but she had checked the medical records and it seemed they would have released him from the MedCenter soon anyway.

"I know," Syal said, but her eyes were on the child Jaina had taken from her. "Take care of yourself, and my son. And these wonderful little gifts."

"I will," Jaina promised. She looked to the others. "I'd love to say goodbye to all of you individually, but I have to hurry if I want that fake transponder code to still work."

She extended one hand to Hanna, who came to her instantly, burying her face in Jaina's leg. She started to turn, then stopped and looked straight at Cem and Wyn. "Thank both of you, for the sacrifices you made here to day that you didn't have to. I hope you have a career to go back to," she added to Wyn.

Her sister in law nodded, then added with a grin, "Just have a place back at Bastion ready for me after my court-martial."

Jaina smiled. "Count on it."

The hatch closed behind her with a final thud, leaving her alone with the two most precious things in the galaxy. She kissed her son's small brown head and then lead them to the hold at a fast walk. She carefully laid the baby in his carrier safety seat, strapping him in and thanking the Force he had chosen that moment to take a nap. She moved to Hanna, latching the four-year-old in beside her brother. "Stay here, and tell me if he wakes up. I'll be back in a minute," Jaina ordered softly.

Hanna nodded in acknowledgment with a sniffle. "Are we going home?"

Jaina ran a hand over the small round face. "Yes, we are. Be good until I get back."

By the time she reached the cockpit her extended family was gone, and in their place was a troupe of Chiss soldiers, already hauling out the heavy guns to demolish her ship. "Not any time soon," Jaina muttered, lowering the blaster cannon on the under belly of the ship. It reminded her of the same mechanism on the _Millennium Falcon_, which had perished five years before over Ithor. Only on the _Always_ there was no groan of protest and creaking of rust. Jaina smiled at the memory. They hadn't been close while he had lived, but Jaina often thought his sacrifice had brought her together with her father. She could almost feel him there with her, watching over her. "You're always there," she whispered to him, knowing somehow that he could hear her. At the same time she fired, leaving a smoking crater where the Chiss had been.

Toggling the repulsorlifts she raised slowly out of the hangar, swinging the long prow of the IDY-1000 a hundred and eighty degrees as she moved straight up and out of the heat shield into the buffeting Csillian winds.

_"I won't either. Never. Whatever else happens to us, Jaina, I want to know that I can always count on you, on us."_

She angled away from the ground and forced herself not to look back. That part of her life was over and she could never go back to it. It was time to live in the moment and not the past. Be who she was and love herself and those around her. Repair the damage she had done to the people she loved and hope that they could embrace what they had. Because she did love Jag. Maybe she hadn't shown or let herself feel that love like she should, but it was there. All she had to do was close her eyes and let his phantom arms envelop her and chill bumps would raise on her skin as she ached for him. That spark may have dwindled but it would never die. It just needed a little fuel.

What had started on Csilla years before was unconquerable. What would follow would be even better, she swore silently.

With a glance into the hold at her children she broke atmosphere and pushed hard for deep space. The quality engines ripe off the Imperial Drive Yards revved pleasingly, sending a thrill of adrenaline through her veins. This was where she had always belonged, at the controls of a ship soaring between the sweet void around the stars.

It wasn't long before the capital ships that always encircled Csilla turned their lumbering forms towards her and released their squadrons of clawcraft. The _Always_ wasn't slow by any means, but against the smaller and more agile single man fighters there really wasn't much of a chance that she could leave the system's gravity well before they caught her.

Belatedly she wished she had just brought Wyn with her right then instead of just joking about it. Then she would have someone to man the gunners turrets.

The first shots peppered her shields, sending mild jolts through the space yacht. Jaina's grip on the controls remained firm as she closed her eyes and let the Force take her. She pushed down, hard, yanking the ship in various and random directions, but the ones that she knew instinctively were safe paths. Occasionally she fired a shot back, but mostly she put all her power into the aft shield and engines. 

The timer beeped, and excitedly her eyes flew open. Trembling, she took hold of the hyperspace lever and pulled it back slowly, watching the stars elongated and contort then finally disappear. The result was a vortex of blue glass like chips that danced in rhythm with the hum of her hyperspace drives.

Slowly she unhooked herself and stood, going back to where her children waited for her.

The Force sometimes came upon Luke Skywalker at the most unlikely of moments, or inconvenient. But that's what happens when you give yourself over to it fully. It becomes your priority, its all knowing Will guides its vessel of choice wherever it needs to go. Sometimes that became irritating, such as when it woke him up in the middle of the night with an impending sense of dread, but more often than not he was thankful afterwards.

So he tried not to be angry as he threw off the sheets to his bed, wanting just another few moments of holding his wife in his arms. Morning would come soon enough and they would have to stay relatively professional until the next night, when they did their best to make up for it. Mara was halfway between sleep and awareness, but he knew that she sensed him leaving her in their bed. But she didn't rise to follow or even speak. When the Force called to him there was little anyone could do. His connection was deep, and there were some places in the reaches of his mind that even she could not follow.

He moved out onto their balcony, taking a seat on the ledge with his feet swinging out in the open between the bars. It was moments like these that he felt like the simple farmboy on Tatooine again, watching the setting sun and pining for a life that was just out of his grasp. If only that boy had known what awaited him just on the other side of the sun. Maybe he would have appreciated Owen and Beru Lars more. Maybe he would have cherished the time he had to be just Luke, not Grand Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, Hero of the Galaxy and Slayer of Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine. That last bit was technically not true, but most people still saw him as all those things and more. The moment he had sat foot on the Death Star he could never be just Luke again.

Closing his eyes he opened himself to the matchless living waters, feeling his skin tingle and heat, his torso go cold with a chill that was beautiful to his soul. The power that filled him was one so indescribable that he could spend years searching every language in the galaxy for the right words and still not come close to an utterance that did it justice. Feelings settled inside him that weren't his own, small nigglings in his mind that tugged him in a thousand different directions. Strange faces looked out at him from behind his eyelids, some familiar tossed into the mix.

He saw a pair of foggy blue eyes staring directly into his heart. They were bleak and raw, so devoid of feeling that Luke recoiled from them. His heart started to beat faster as the Force revealed to him things he would just as soon never see. He winced, struggling with himself, hating the tide of images and impressions that bode of things he wished would never come to pass.

Finally it was over and he was left gasping in the cool Coruscant night. "Luke?"

He sighed, feeling Mara's concern for him. "I'm fine."

He sensed rather than heard the bed move under her weight as she rose and came to stand in the doorway. "What was it?" she whispered, and immediately Luke felt better just being in her presence and hearing the love in her voice.

"There is someone out there with the intent of hurting a person we love," he told her bluntly. There was no use in hiding anything from her.

"Who?" she demanded and he could almost see her jade eyes roving across the apartment for her blaster.

"I don't know," he admitted. 

"Sith?" she asked, the one word spoken with such venom he wondered how the Emperor had ever recruited her to his service. 

"No," he answered immediately. A hand calloused from hours gripping a lightsaber caressed his brow. "I don't know who it is though. Just...something's about to blow. Or maybe it already has."

"Not another war, Luke," she moaned, and he returned her sentiment. But something about that didn't ring true to him.

"I don't think this is a galaxy wide problem. But it has the potential to destroy someone close to us."

"Who?" 

"I have no idea. I need to meditate."

She shook her head, tussled red hair flying. "Not tonight. Tonight you rest. The galaxy can go a few hours without you running to its aid. Especially when you don't know where you're running."

He smiled at her, an affection that was born of trust and respect and years of commitment blooming inside of him. "I'm glad I have you to take care of me. Force knows I would never do it for myself."

She cocked one red eyebrow suggestively. "Is that all I'm good for, Skywalker?"

He grinned from one ear to the other. "Well, that's certainly not _all_..."

She smiled back, but almost as soon as she did her face contorted back into a scowl. "Do you feel that?"

"No. What is it?"

She breathed heavily through her nose. "Jaina's back."

Luke reached inside himself and touched the Jaina-place, and knew immediately that his wife was right. "Good. Jag needs her here."

Mara looked thoughtful. "Do you think this foreboding sense could have something to do with her?"

He shrugged, unsure. "I don't know. I certainly hope not." After a moment's consideration he added, "Maybe I'm sensing the same thing she did, whatever it was that made her think there was more to Jag's charges than met the eye."

She extended her hand to him, offering help as he climbed to his feet. "I should talk to her in the morning then." 

He nodded in agreement. "We both do. Besides, I'm eager to see that baby of hers."

"Jaina's back," Anakin voiced, but Jacen already knew. He was relieved and worried at the same time. She shouldn't have been released from a medical facility so soon, and certainly shouldn't be traveling. But having her home did assuage some of his fears for her. He could at least do something about her circumstances now.

Anakin had made a practice of keeping him company at least one night a week since Danni had left him. Sometimes it was a shockball game or a sabacc tournament or something else equally frivolous, but it never failed. And no matter how he tried Jacen couldn't get rid of him. It was an occasional headache, but a good headache, he had decided. It _did_ serve its purpose. Life wasn't as bland when he was wasting his time in an enjoyable way.

"I know." He took a deep breath and added, "She has both children with her."

Anakin's clear and knowing eyes flicked to his older brother's face. "Should we call Kolivin again, tell him to let Jag know?"

"I have a feeling Jaina will take care of that all on her own," Jacen mused, taking a bite of his half-eaten sandwich that had sat on his lap so long it was almost stale. The shockball game still playing softly in front of them blared unusually as the favored team scored the winning goal.

Anakin tossed a fruit snack into the air and kept it hanging above his face, suspended by his the invisible Force grip. Finally he let it go and caught it expertly in his mouth, making a successful grunt of victory as he did so. "You're probably right." 

"I'm always right," Jacen smirked.

Anakin snorted derisively. "Yeah, sure. If you're so great, why are you sitting at home with your little brother?"

"Because he's such a clueless nerfherder he can't take a hint and get lost," Jacen drawled. "Besides, I could ask you the same question."

"Well that's easy," Anakin told him matter-of-factly. "Tahiri's still training this semester at the Academy."

Jacen frowned slightly. "I thought you two had decided to put things on hold." 

Anakin shrugged. "We did. And now they've started back up again. You got a problem with that?" he smiled teasingly.

Jacen sighed a sigh of the learned and lived, shaking his head. "No. I have a problem with you rushing into something at your age. Even if it _is_ just Tahiri."

"_Just Tahiri_? What's that supposed to mean?" the younger man demanded, seemingly offended.

Jacen waved him off. "You know what I mean." 

"And besides," Anakin continued, "You were younger than me when you met Danni. And Jaina was two years younger than me when she married Jag."

"Now that's not fair," Jacen stated. "Jaina never would have put herself in that situation if she had had a choice. And Danni...well, you see how that turned out."

His brother snorted again, repeating his personal catch game with the fruit snack. "You have no one to blame for that but yourself. Seriously, Jace, you're my brother and I love you, but you can be such an idiot sometimes."

Jacen actually laughed. "Believe me, I don't need you to tell me. I beat myself up for it enough for the both of us."

"Then why don't you go and patch things up with her?" Anakin asked with exasperation.

"_Because_," he explained slowly, "this doesn't change the fact that I just have no desire to get married. Is that so hard for everyone to understand?"

"For a woman, yeah," the young Jedi replied. "Look, Tahiri is sixteen years old, and she already gets that look in her eye when people talk about having kids. Their biological clock starts ticking early. Danni is, what, twenty six?" 

"Twenty seven," Jacen muttered.

"Whatever. The point is, she has a need, and if you can't fill it then you just have to let her go. And that means you have to move on too. You know who was at the Temple the other day?"

Jacen rolled his eyes, not really wanting to know. "I give up. Who?"

Anakin's eyes sparkled. "Tenel Ka."

Jacen's jaw clenched in reflex. "That was a very long time ago, and nothing but a childish crush. I'm a long ways past that."

"Oh, I'm sure you are. But the point is that there are other beautiful women out there that you can make a life with. Or not make a life with, in your case," he added with a smirk.

Jacen remained silent. How long had it been since he had seen Tenel Ka, his old childhood friend? Since the last really big Jedi meeting, he supposed. And that had been after the end of the war, four years ago, before she had given up and taken the Hapan throne as Queen Mother. Even if he had no interest at the moment for a relationship with anyone but Danni, it would be nice to see his friend again. Maybe he would pay her a visit after all.

The Coruscant night filled Jaina's viewport and she smiled as her close family extended their touch in recognition and welcome. It was good to be home.

The problem was, she didn't think she wanted it to be her home. As soon as she got Jag out of this mess he was tangled in, they would return to the Empire that embraced them and raise their children in peace.

As soon as she got him out of prison. That was the trick. Maybe it was time to try something a little less, _conventional_, Jaina mused. With a smile she pressed the stick forward and pushed towards atmosphere. Yes. Unconventional. That was it. 


	12. Chapter 12: Only Love

**Chapter 12: Only Love**

For the past few months that Jag had been locked away, Jaina had stayed in her place and played the part everyone had come to expect of her. She had finally become the perfect housewife, the example of propriety and grace her mother had always dreamed she would be. She led a quiet life, smiling for the public and anyone who had never known who she truly was. Even for them, she tried to pretend it was all fine. But Jaina had never been a good liar. It was probably why Leia had never coerced her into politics.

She was a shell of her former self. Where once there had been a wellspring of life, a fire of spirit and vitality, there was a calm facade. She had been slowly stripped of everything that had made her love life, leaving her with responsibilities and emptiness. It had happened at such a sluggish pace she hadn't seen it happen until it was too late.

As a child she had dreamed of X-wings and lightsabers, a gallant and noble future filled with adventure and pulse-racing danger. For a while she had fulfilled that notion, even against staggering opposition. But the mundane life that followed wartime had swallowed her whole. It had started with Hanna. 

It wasn't that Jaina didn't love her. On the contrary, she loved Hanna so much it took her breath away sometimes. But she had needed the care and nurturing of a mother, and Jaina had been determined to give her all the love and security Jaina had never had from Leia. So she had carefully balanced the time with their child between herself and Jag, giving them each equal time working and spending time with their daughter.

It had worked, at least at first. But then the work they had been assigned became more and more like desk work. It had appealed less all the time, but she had still been General Jaina Solo-Fel. They would still call on her occasionally to settle some sort of dispute, taking the _Roughshod_ along as her strong arm.

Then Chak had recuperated enough to be sent to live with them. She had finally relinquished her position in the Imperial military to stay home full time with her brother-in-law and toddler. The _Roughshod_ had been taken from her command, her uniform and honors stripped away. It had been a double punch in the gut since even as she lost her livelihood Jag took on both their loads. Maybe if she had still had him as an outlet things wouldn't have gotten so bad. But instead she had been torn away from her life and at the same time lost the companionship she had with her husband.

That was all in the past.

Marching down the landing platform away from her ship, Jaina was more determined and energized than she had been in far too long. For the first time, it seemed, she knew _exactly_ what she wanted. And for the first time since the war had ended, she was going to do something about it.

To hell with everyone.

To hell with the laws, with the GFFA, with the Empire.

She was taking back what was hers, was going to be who she was. She would live her life how she had always wanted to, not to everyone else's expectations and standards.

The first thing on her list was to get Jag out of jail.

Some very important steps had to be taken to reach that end, however. Hanna and Davin needed to be taken care of despite the consequences of her coming actions. So as she saw her close family waiting for her, Jaina put on the most placating smile possible, hoping for once that they wouldn't be able to read her intent.

Luke got to her side first, his eyes drawn immediately to the bundle in her arms. One hand settled on her shoulder, and she fully understood the paternal love emanating from him. She would always consider him her father in all but one way. "Oh, Jaina. We were so worried about you all."

She smiled at him, then down at Hanna. "Why don't you go play with Ben, Hanna?"

Her daughter smiled back, then hurried off to greet her cousin that was more like a brother. Then she answered her uncle. "I'm sorry to worry everyone. I know you weren't expecting me to be so...spontaneous."

Luke waved her off. "It's fine. Now introduce me to this little one."

She glanced down at her newborn son, her heart breaking because she knew that the Force would undoubtedly draw him down the same crooked path she had been placed on. "This is Davin Fel, my son."

Everyone had gathered around by then, her brothers draping their arms over her shoulders from either side over her, a silent comfort that meant the world to her. Mara stood with her arm looped through her husband's, one eye on Ben and Hanna to make sure they stayed a safe distance from the edge of the platform.

"He's just beautiful, Jay," Jacen whispered.

"Thank you," she answered. "He's so small, though. I worry about him so much."

"Can I?" Luke asked hesitantly, obviously wanting to hold the child he no doubt considered a grandson.

"Of course," she replied with no reservations as she set the precious bundle into his experienced arms.

Mara moved to her side then, embracing her fiercely. "You had us so worried, Jaina."

Jaina hugged her back, determined not to cry. "I know." She pulled away quickly, wiping at her eyes. "I'm very sorry. But...I need you all to do something for me. Right now."

"What is it?" Anakin queried, his instincts automatically picking up on her tone.

She braced herself. "I'm going to break Jag out of jail."

"Jaina—" 

"You can't be serious—"

"That's crazy—" 

"Don't even try to dissuade me," she replied calmly. "I've made up my mind and I'm going to do this with or without your help."

"What could you possibly want us to do?" Jacen demanded.

Jaina looked him square in the eye. "I need you to take care of Hanna and Davin, for one. But I also need you to distract Mom while all this is going on. You know that she's going to want to talk to me as soon as she finds out I'm back on Coruscant. Even more important, they're not aloud to do a search and arrest of me without her permission."

"What?" Mara frowned. "I didn't catch that last part."

Jaina sighed, but spoke to Jacen and Anakin. "You all know that she's made the three of us basically untouchable, right?"

They nodded solemnly.

She turned back to Mara. "It's not a law, because she's not allowed to do that. But all the law enforcement here knows that if they're going to do anything to us they better have her permission first. I know that first hand. Leia approved Jag's arrest."

"So," Mara finished, catching on, "if Leia's out of contact, you get a few extra hours with hubby before he has to hit the road." 

"Wait," Anakin interrupted. "Won't both of you have to leave Coruscant. Like, permanently? And Bastion and Csilla too for that matter?"

Jaina shook her head, but Jacen finished the thought for her.

"She's taking the dive for him."

"I don't think I like this plan," Luke interjected. Jaina decided to ignore the comment.

She continued to explain. "I wouldn't have used that term, but yes, basically. I can't take care of Hanna and Davin and still find the person behind all this. But if I were to stay here with them, Jag could go find them on his own. It will be more dangerous on his part, really."

"Why," Luke suggested, "don't you just let one of us go take care of the mystery contriver? Then both you and Jag can stay here, safe." 

"Because, Uncle Luke, this is our family and our problem. I can't have you swooping in and rescuing me any more. I can't let anyone do that. I have to be me, to handle life as it comes at me. I knew how to do that once, but I've forgotten. Jag is my husband, completes _family_. We've got to fix this on our own. I'm sorry."

His face fell slightly, but Mara gave her an encouragingly look that said he would understand in time.

"It's only 0900 in the morning," Jacen said suddenly. "When are you wanting this prison break to happen?"

"Around 2100 hours," she answered. "Just after sunset. That gives us all day to plan."

"Are you going to tell Jag you're coming for him?" Anakin asked.

Jaina shook her head slowly. "I thought about it, but I think he'll play his part better if he doesn't know."

It was as dark as the planet ever got, the orange glow of Coruscant's primary having recently set beneath the uneven horizon. Still the artificial glow of a million different signs and advertisements, the nightclubs and late night dwellers lit up the sky, hiding the stars behind a haze of smog. 

Jaina shifted uncomfortably, grunting with the knowledge that a few moments from then her life would never be the same again. Was it better to know it advance, or have fate sneak up on you? She had no way of telling. Instead of wondering, she rechecked her weapons' settings again. Her lightsaber was the only visible armament, hanging at her belt as always. Tucked away expertly under the thin cloak were two blasters, three extra power packs, a hand grenade and a lasicutter. She had assumed the lightsaber would take care of all the cutting, but Mara had insisted that some jobs needed to be done descreetly and leave little evidence. Since she was, after all, a former assassin, Jaina had trusted her judgment.

"You're nervous," Mara observed. Jaina turned to look at her, licking her dry lips. She couldn't hide anything from the woman. The Coruscant skyline was highlighted behind her, casting her red-gold mane in a purplish hue. The wind was easily felt from the balcony they stood on, just outside the Skywalker apartment. It whipped and whistled gently, making a warm shiver run through Jaina.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

The Jedi Master snorted derisively. "I've seen you less nervous when staring down a battalion of bloodthirsty Yuuzhan Vong. What is it about a simple prison break that has you so rattled?"

Jaina took a moment to carefully craft her answer. Instead of a directly reply she said, "Do you remember that day in the Ithorian gardens we had a while back? You told me something then that I've never forgotten. And it's haunted me ever since. You said that love is a lie. I still don't understand what you meant."

Mara remained quiet for a very long time. "When you were a little girl, what did all the holodramas you watched end with? The princess was rescued and carried away into the sunset by her prince, the words 'And they lived happily ever after' flashing across the screen. That belief has been so ingrained in us that when reality hits we're often crippled by it. Because the fact of the matter is, that kind of love is a lie. No one has a happily ever after, Jaina. I've hated your uncle as often as I loved him, over the years. Being so close to someone for so long has its drawbacks, and you and Jag have just now found that out. The trick is being _committed_. When you take a vow, mean it! Something like that shouldn't be thrown away just because the rose colored glasses are ripped off your face.

"Jag is just a man. He's not perfect, he's not prince charming, and he never will be. He's just like everyone else. He has his selfish moments, times when he's inconsiderate and rude and completely oblivious to what you're trying to tell him. But in the end, wouldn't you live through all that just to feel that little thrill when he leans in to kiss you?

"_That_ is what love is. It's a supernatural connection that supplants reason and logic. You can't make up you're mind to love someone. It just happens, completely random." She gave a mild chuckle. "Do you think I would have chosen Luke Skywalker, of all people, to fall in love with?"

Jaina smiled tightly. "I think I understand what you're saying."

"Good. But you also have to know that somethings just can't be taught. Life, and love...those are things you have to learn on your own, through experience and sweat and tears. But it's that sweat and tears that make victory so much sweeter," Mara told her. "Love is like sand on a beach. It's washed away by the tides, tumbled and thrown and crushed under the waves for a while; but when it's washed back on shore it's smoother and more polished than before."

That made sense. Love fluctuated, wasn't steady or constant or any of the things she had expected it to be. It was a struggle, but the reward was well worth it. Now that she thought about it, Hanna and Davin were well worth the heartache she had endured the past few years. She wouldn't exchange them for anything. And when she and Jag found love in each other again, she expected the same result.

Mara tossed a look back inside her apartment where Hanna and Ben played quietly. Davin slumbered peacefully in his crib just in the other room. Luke, Jacen and Anakin were on their way to pay Leia and impromptu visit. All was in place. Jaina just needed to make her move. "I think it's time," she whispered.

Jaina nodded. "Thank you Anut Mara, for everything. You always know exactly what to say."

Mara gave her a short but tight hug. "I'm just telling you the truth. Now go and do what you have to do. We'll be here waiting when you get back." 

It began with the usual proceedings Jaina had to undergo every time she had come to visit Jag. She waited quietly as the guards inspected her for hidden weapons, which they found, and which Jaina had them give back with just a little Force persuasion. They let her inside the visitation room where she then waited anxiously for them to bring her husband to her.

Getting him out would never have been a problem. It was just that they had preferred to clear his name legally, let the judicial process work its course. The prison he was in wasn't even high security. That was probably the only favor Jaina had to thank her mother for.

The door on the other side of the transparisteel wall opened suddenly, and Jag stepped inside. He looked pale and worn, very tired. What struck Jaina most was how the fire had left his eyes, the spirit she had always admired buried deep inside. She prayed it wasn't gone forever.

He took a seat across from her, green eyes roving across her form. They didn't speak until they had been left alone, and then it was Jag who broke the silence. "How's the baby?" 

She had made up her mind before she ever came that she wasn't going to cry. But the moment he opened his mouth tears burst forth, uncontrolled. He didn't attempt to console her, just waited until she had regained her composure. After a few minutes she said, "I'm so sorry I left you, Jag. It's all my fault that he was born so premature. They said it was the stress. If I had just tried to relax and—"

"Stop," he ordered harshly. "Don't even go there. We can't change what happened. You were doing what you thought was best. Just tell me, how is he?"

She managed a smile. "He's so small, but relatively healthy. He'll be just fine."

He breathed a deep sigh of relief, rubbing his eyes as if tired. Jaina knew it was to crush any vestiges of moisture. "I was so worried about you. Both of you," he croaked finally, not looking at her. 

Jaina cried some more. "All this has to stop. Right now." 

He looked at her then, recognizing the tone of her voice. "How?"

She stood with a flourish, burying the end of her lightsaber into the transparisteel and drawing it easily through the thin surface. After a reasonable slit had been made she kicked the gap viciously, shattering it. It wasn't until then that the guards arrived, leveling their blasters and demanding she lay down her weapon.

She charged.

A few bloody moments later and they were once again alone, however temporarily. She looked to where he stood, shocked, and smiled roguishly. "I got tired of waiting." 

The whole trip back from Csilla Jaina had imagined that moment. Somehow—probably through the unrealistic preconceived fantasies Mara had spoke of—she had thought that if she could just get to this point, be able to touch and hold and kiss him, the galaxy would right itself again.

Obviously, she had been wrong.

So instead of rushing into his arms she tossed him a blaster and a power pack. "Here. You're going to need this."

"I can't believe you're doing this," he muttered, not moving to catch the weapon but letting in clank on the floor. "Do you want _both_ of us to go to jail?"

Jaina shook her head, brown hair flying. "Of course not. That's why you need to pick up the gun and help me get us out of here."

"I don't understand. This doesn't make any sense—" he exclaimed.

"Yes it does!" she returned. "I can't find the people who framed you because I have to take care of our children. So _you_'re going to do it yourself. Now stop staring at me like that and pick up the damn blaster! I can hear them coming."

He stared for a few more tense seconds, then broke into a wide grin. Shaking his head, he bent and scooped up the weapon. "Yes, dear."

They made a clean and easy break, almost so much so that Jaina was suspicious. But by the time they made it off the prison grounds she felt so exhilarated and _alive_ that it didn't really matter. She couldn't remember the last time she had had only herself and her own skills to rely own, when she had danced with death and felt the adrenaline that came with being victorious. What made it even better was that Jag was right there with her. It felt like old times again, and she could _almost_ remember the feelings that had once passed between them.

They didn't speak on the long foot trek to the landing pad where the _Always_ berthed. Jaina didn't know if he would want to take it with him or not, but she wanted to give him the option. He didn't ask where they were going, either, but she suspected he knew. He had always been able to read her better than any Jedi.

They were crossing the catwalk towards the ship when it began to rain. There was a low rumbling of thunder in the distance, and Jaina winced. He would need to leave soon to avoid the dangerous lightning that always accompanied Curscanti storms. She broke into a trot, hurrying towards their ship. She could at least help him run through the preflight.

"Jaina, wait."

She stopped and turned, giving him a questioning look. He stood still a few meters away, hair plastered to his scalp by the rain, his face scruffy, looking as if he hadn't shaved in a week. "What is it?" 

He took a single step forward. The simple, unobtrusive gesture spoke volumes to her. He wanted to talk. Truthfully, she did too. She had been thinking for so long of what she would say to him in this moment. But now that it had come all thought had fled from her, as if she had been struck dumb. "There are some things that I have to say before we finish this."

She swallowed hard, suddenly afraid. "This isn't the time, Jag," she said instead, hoping he would drop it even as she knew he wouldn't.

"It's the only time we have, Jaina," he answered her. "We have to fix this now, because there's a very good chance that we'll never get the chance after I leave."

She was happy for the rain, so he couldn't distinguish her tears. "Don't say that. We can work things out later—"

"What happened to us?" he blurted. "Why is there such a distance when we used to be so close? I _knew_ you Jaina, everything about you. And when we were together, I knew who I was too. How did we let that slip away?"

She shook her head, a wet lock of hair slapping against her face. "I don't know. I just...when we left everything behind to join the Empire, we were living for ourselves, making our own decisions and letting go of the fear of disappointing people." She poked a finger against her own chest bone. "We've let duties and complications come between us and divide us from what was so important. I remember a time when being apart from you for a few hours was agonizing. But we've let it slip so far that we went days without saying but a few words to each other. We lived in the same house, but led separate lives."

"And at the same time we forgot who we were," he said, taking another step. "The job isn't who I am, it isn't even what I love to do. We gave that up because it's what people expected us to do."

"And we sacrificed our love for it," she ended.

Even through the wind and rain, Jaina could see him pale. "I still love you," he told her flatly.

Jaina pursed her lips, a dull ache forming under her sternum. "I have faith that we can have what we did then again, only better. We can overcome this, together." She turned, trying not to see the hurt on his face.

A hand grabbed her shoulder roughly, but he didn't turn her to face him. His lips descended to her ear, so close she could feel the fog of his breath, making a chill race over her skin. His other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She didn't have the strength to resist him. "You can't tell me that you don't feel something when I touch you." His fingers dug deeper against her jumpsuit. "You can't tell me that you don't remember that night five years ago on Csilla, when we realized what neither of us had dared to see before. _You can't tell me that that feeling can die_."

She found the will to struggle out of his grip, but he held firm. Fear stabbed in her heart, panic. She had reasoned it out, established in her mind that she had simply fallen out of love with him. They could rebuild it in time and things would be even better than before, but that didn't change the fact that what had once been between them was gone. And now he was confusing her, telling her that what they had shared couldn't be destroyed completely. Even worse was the feeling inside her that was swelling with each breath, like a bubble about to burst wide open.

His hand softened on her, trailing around her waist as his mouth moved even closer to her ear. "If you can look me in the eye right now and tell me that you don't love me I'll walk away and never dispute you again. You can go in whatever direction you want your life to go and I want stop you. Go ahead. Tell me that you don't love me." She turned slightly, just enough to see the pale green of his eyes meet hers.

The bubble broke, and she was assaulted with feelings she had kept buried so deep inside she had forgotten they existed. The lightheaded ecstasy of knowing someone so completely you weren't entirely sure where one ended and the other began. When you could finish their thoughts before they could say them, knew exactly what story they would tell in what situation, could interpret every glance and look.

What she realized then was that she had saw their love as something much more shallow than it really was. In reality, she had loved the essence of him, the soul, something that couldn't be changed, no matter how lost they became.

She did love him. She had always loved him, and always would, through living Force that would embrace her would in immortality when her flesh perished. They had been meant for each other, like a destiny written in the stars before the first life had formed in the galaxy. Fate or the Force, it didn't matter, because in loving him she knew why she was alive.

As if in complete validation of her thoughts he read her mind, seeing through her eyes the conclusion of the struggle within. In a moment his lips had claimed hers forcefully, his arms crushing her against him. Jaina's heart soared with relief and love, and she easily lost herself in his kiss. No thought, only him.

Only their love that would never end. 


	13. Chapter 13: The Setup

**Chapter 13: The Setup**

Love had never come easy to Jaina. She had been a natural in mechanics, in piloting and even commanding, but the most basic of human instincts had been elusive to her. She had had to work incessantly to become the kind of mother her children needed. And the Force knew it had taken her long enough to sort things out with Jag. Even five years later she found herself struggling with her own emotions towards him. It was ridiculous and pathetic to her own mind, but then again she hadn't had the greatest of inspirations. It seemed one thing the Skywalker's were incapable of doing was making a relationship comfortable.

She wondered some times what she would tell Hanna that inevitable day, years from then, when her daughter needed advice on love. She would ask how Jaina had known Jag was the one, how they had met. What would Jaina say then? 'Well, we got married two days after we met and kind of worked things out from there'? No. She would need a better answer than that.

Jag rolled over, his hand tightening around hers in his sleep. She smiled. Maybe she was thinking too much. She should rely more on what was in her heart, not her head. It was a by-product of living for so long in such close proximity to the political capital of the universe, she reasoned. Things would get better when they had cleared things up with Jag and moved back to Bastion. And somehow they would make time for her to have a career. Between the two of them, one should be able to be with the children while the other worked.

But that wouldn't work either. They needed time for each other, desperately so.

_Stop_, she chastised herself. Just stop thinking for while and simply _be_. She was going to take life as it came, live in the moment not the future. That would be the hardest part of all.

Her eyes were drawn to the blinking chrono hanging on the bulkhead opposite their bed. They had been there over an hour, far too long a time for his departure to now be safe. She felt guilty suddenly, for taking that precious time away from him because of her own selfish wants. But they hadn't been found out yet, a miracle in itself. She hoped their luck could only hold out.

"Jag," she decided to wake him, "time to get on the move. You need to get going."

He rolled to face her, eyes open and alert as if he hadn't been sleeping at all. It was a pilot's trait. "Already?"

"We've been in here an hour. You've got to get off Coruscant."

He pursed his lips but agreed silently, sitting up away from her. "Where should I go first?"

Jaina shook her head staunchly. "It's better if I don't know."

He looked pained. "This is going to be tough on all of us."

"I trust you," she said immediately. "You'll make this right, I know it. The Force won't forsake us." 

He remained doubtful. "What about the children? They need me, too. Maybe we should all just run now..."

"Don't," she begged. "We can't even think like that. They need a more stable life. We're going to clear all this up so they can have the future we always wanted to give them."

He looked down at his hands, flexing the fingers experimentally. When he spoke again his voice was firmer, harder, more in control. She could hear the Chiss training in it. "Let's get dressed and prep the ship, then. The hammer's going to drop soon, and I want to be ready when it does."

She nodded, swinging her legs over the other side of the bed. One hand extended and her Jedi robes floated to her. "I need to be gone when you leave. The longer I can keep them away from my trail the better for everyone."

He was already zipping up his jumpsuit, one of his few civilian garbs. Imperial uniforms and jail suits wouldn't do in the kind of place he was going. "I don't know how long this will take. I'll try to get you word if I can, safely."

"Just don't give yourself away," she instructed firmly. "I'd know if you were seriously hurt, anyway."

"I won't," he promised. By then they were both dressed, and she crossed her arms as she faced him, the bed a physical barrier between them.

Her shoulders squared instinctively, eyes narrowing in determination. "I'll help from here any way I can, too. Maybe I can snoop out the perpetrators on Coruscant. Even if they're not here, they must have connections here."

"I just don't understand the motive," Jag shook his head. "Why would someone want me to be locked away?" 

"You're dangerous in some way," Jaina mused aloud. "You know something, or stand a chance of knowing something. It's a safety precaution, has to be. If it wasn't they would kill you outright." 

"That's comforting," he replied dryly. "But what could I know? I've been doing ambassador work for the past four years. Nothing important goes through my office."

"From before then, maybe," she suggested, tapping her lower lip with her index finger. "The Vong War, or the Chiss? No, I didn't find anything with the Chiss. It's someone else."

He looked bewildered. "I can't think of anything we would have found back then that could still be a threat to someone now." His eyebrows shot up in thought. "Unless it's someone from one of the Core worlds, one of those senators that placed all their holdings in the Vong because they thought we'd lose. We kind of wrecked their plans."

"I think you're on the right track," she nodded. "But you need to start out with one of the fundamental rules of combat: if you're outmatched, never go straight for the head. Work your way to it. Start at the bottom and go backwards."

A smile colored his eyes. "The pilots in the Republic fleet that started it all. Are they still on Coruscant?"

"I think so," she nodded. "But you have all the information on them inside those datacards Kolivin gave me. They're in the hold for you to use. Read up, start at their home worlds, or something. It'll be a slow process, but it has to get you somewhere."

"You're right," he sighed. But when he looked up his eyes didn't seem as sad as they had a few minutes before. She was drawn to him, and they were both standing in front of each other before she realized they had moved. The back of his hand caressed her cheek. "You're always right. I love you, Jaina. Please be safe. Be here for me to come back to. Life's not worth it if you're not."

She kissed the hand, then pressed her forehead to the solid pillar of his shoulder. "I doubt I'll have a moment's peace while you're gone. I'm so worried we'll never be able to be that family we always wanted."

He kissed the top of her head gently, pulling her into a soft embrace. "We will. One day, we'll make that dream come true. I'll work with every breath I take to make it happen."

She closed her eyes, determined not to be sad. Because even though they were parting in the corporeal, they were together again in mind and soul. She was not her own but his, and he was hers. As long as she held to that, life would continue to make sense. Life was once again worth fighting for. 

Despite all, she had more happiness then than in what the past half decade had brought her.

The word was already on the street when Jaina left the _Always_. Law enforcement scuttled around the busy crowd, searching for any sign of the elusive fugitive. She made sure they found none, drawing herself under the obscurity of her cloak covering her form in a blanket of incuriousity.

She hadn't commed Mara yet, but hoped instead that the surprise would keep them from any incrimination. The last thing she wanted was to draw them into this mess. They had been so good to her. Her Uncle needed some well-earned peace for once, after rescuing a galaxy countless times and raising three children that weren't even his own. And Mara for all she had suffered under the Emperor. No, Jaina couldn't ruin the perfect family they had now created around each other and Ben.

Mara sensed her as she approached the apartment floor, and gave a stark warning to stay away. They were there investigating, Jaina guessed. Her eyes narrowed. Part of her wanted to face all of this now, but it would be best to handle it later, away from her children's eyes. She would sneak in after the officers were gone, then hurry back to her apartment. If she could just make it back, she had no doubt that it would be Leia she confronted instead of some underling intern trying to work their way up the political ladder. And that's exactly what she wanted.

Jaina waited in the shadows until coast was clear, then slid quietly into the Skywalker apartment. Mara stood near the balcony door, much in the same way Jaina had left her. "Are they still asleep?" Jaina whispered.

Mara nodded gently. "I made those goons keep it quiet."

Jaina's throat constricted. "But they know Hanna and Davin are here?"

"Yes," Mara sighed. "I told them I had no idea where you were. I thought you had wanted to do some Jedi meditation by yourself. And when they asked about Luke I told them to ask Leia, because that's where he was. I think they bought it. And even if they didn't, there's not much they can do about it."

Jaina looked at her feet, feeling ashamed and not sure why. Then again, it was never easy to put someone you loved in a hard position. That's why she was going to take care of things herself from then on. "Thank you, Mara. Tell Uncle Luke I said so too. Let me just wake Hanna and get Davin, then I'll leave you all alone."

Only then did Mara look over her shoulder at Jaina. To her surprise, the older Jedi was smiling faintly. "Do what you have to, honey, and be careful. Let's all hope the Force is with you. You're going to need it."

Jaina settled her newborn son into his crib with a sad smile, heart conflicted. He was home, finally, where he belonged, and surrounded by people he loved. But he had never even been held by his own father, and it was very likely he wouldn't be for a very long time. Yet, things were finally looking up in all their lives. Things were happening, progressing. She felt closer to her goal all the time.

She checked on Hanna one more time before heading to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of caf. She had a feeling that sleep wouldn't come easy for her that night. As she padded her way across the soft carpet an unexpected voice announced, "What have you done, Jaina?"

The young Jedi jumped, whirling in an instant with her blaster trained on the voice. Leia's silhouette could just be made out in the dark corner of the living room, legs crossed and chin held high. Jaina lowered her weapon very slowly. "What was best for my family." She was a little surprised Leia had been able to hide her presence form her so thoroughly. She hadn't known her mother retained the skill. Perhaps she had been training in her spare time. Luke had certainly pushed her in that direction often enough. "You have to see that."

Leia stood, and Jaina took note of the apparent lack of anger. It was the exact opposite of what she had expected. "From a certain view, maybe. But you've made things so much harder on yourself and Hanna and the baby. Jag is the only one who's been let off by this. Was it worth it?"

Jaina folded her arms staunchly over her chest. She and her mother had never been on the best of terms, but things had settled into a mildly comfortable relationship while she had returned to Coruscant after the war. This, however, threatened that tentative truce. Leia had sanctioned Jag's arrest. She had allowed criminal charges to be pressed. His very life had been in danger, when she could have saved it. Jaina didn't know if she could forgive her for that.

Then again, she had forgiven her much greater grievances. "Totally," she sighed. "That's one thing you never understood about me, Mother. Some things are more important to me than a my own comfort." 

Leia sighed deeply, and stepped into the light. Her faced was lined with worry, a seemingly permanent frown creasing her brow. "I hate the position you've put me in."

"There wouldn't be a position if you had supported Jag when you had the chance," Jaina stated flatly.

"You know that that's not what my office is about," Leia snapped. "I can't abuse that power for personal reasons. That's not what makes a good leader."

"You're one of the best leaders that had ever lived," Jaina told her, and meant it. "But what kind of mother are you?"

"That's not fair," Leia said, the anger started to materialize. One finger poked towards Jaina's chest. "We've been over this so many times. What happened with you and your brothers was for the best, for everyone. Luke was a better parent than Han or I could ever have been."

A familiar stab bled Jaina's heart at the mention of her father. What little she had learned of him in his last days had made a deep impression on her, and his final sacrifice was forever bonded to her soul. It had all been for her and her love, and that was a forfeit Jaina had no confidence Leia would make. Han had been a good man, and in his own way had loved her. She continued to love him.

But she wouldn't argue Leia's point.

"That's not what this is about. You know, I don't want to argue with you, Mother. Let's just not go there again. Tell me what I have to do to make this right."

The Chief of State folded her arms across her chest. "The best I can do is a fair trial and a minimal security prison."

Jaina shook her head firmly. "Not good enough. It takes me away from my kids. They're staying with me, one way or another."

Leia's scowl deepened. "What do you suggest?"

"House arrest," Jaina told her. "No more." 

"We can't trust you," Leia sighed.

"I never said you could. But if I was going to leave, wouldn't I have gone with Jag?"

The older woman gave her a calculating look. "I guess that's the question. You have to give me your personal word on this, Jaina. I'm mortgaging both our names on your honor. Don't disappoint me."

Jaina pursed her lips gently. She would do whatever it took to help Jag. But right now, it was her kids who needed to help. "I promise that I won't leave this place until you tell me I can. On my honor and my life, I promise."

Varen narrowed the weathered skin around his eyes, staring in measured anger at the Holonet display scrolling along the main bulletin area of the bunker. He crossed his meaty arms over his chest, blowing out a long breath through his nose. It was the only noise in the silent congregation of his men. They all knew what this meant. His plan was unravelling.

He overcame the fear and anger quickly, reigning his emotions back under control as he faced the loyal gathering of his workmen. The Small, they called the place, for obvious reasons. It was dug from the beaten earth of an asteroid, as most of their bases were. No more than a temporary weigh station for his sentient merchandise, The Small had no real value. It was just another hole to hide in until his scheming came to fruition and the slave trade could prosper again.

All in all there were probably two dozen pirates in the room facing him. Their dirty, leering faces were painted blue in the light of the projector screen, eyes bright with emotion like his own. They may be thieving scoundrels, but they were anything but stupid. "This changes everything, of course," he sighed at last, running a hand over the scruff of a beard. "Fel might be smarter than we thought." 

"They'll be a hefty bounty on his head," Riqwa, the commander of this particular outpost, commented. "It would make it easy for us to just kill him and have it over with."

Varen dismissed the notion immediately. "They won't want him dead, and then people will question why we killed him. It's not him that's the problem anyway."

Riqwa looked hesitant to reply, but Varen motioned for him to speak his mind. Any new ideas would be welcome at this point. He had hoped that having Fel locked away would destroy the threat he presented, but now that he had escaped all that changed. If that man he had met—well, trounced really—so long ago really was Chak Fel, and Chak regained his memories from that time, there would be no safe hole to hide in anymore. Not only that, but there was one particular woman still out there somewhere he knew would be _most_ displeased with his failure. And she scared him most of all.

"What if," Riqwa suggested, "we go ahead with things now? Before the deadline?"

"We're not ready, and you know that," Varen snapped.

"But we can be," Riqwa continued, gaining confidence. "If you would only answer that message—"

Varen had drawn and aimed his blaster before the sentence completed, though he had enough presence of mind not to shoot him. A tyrranical ruler never ruled long. He reholstered it very slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the mutiny-speaking pirate. "She's too dangerous, untrustworthy. If I let her become a part of this she'll take it all over and bend it to her own will. We'll never get what we want: a profit. Instead will get a death sentence after she becomes Empress. I wish the old bird were dead, sucked into the Maw with the rest of them."

But Riqwa wasn't the only one of this mind. He had stirred something in them that Varen would now be hard pressed to put down. "But she could save us before it's too late!" one exclaimed.

"We're taking a big chance leaving Fel out there loose, Varen," cried another.

"We need to take action!" a voice rose.

Varen held up one hand for silence, mulling over his newest dilemma. He had done something very stupid a long time ago, and now the decision was coming back to haunt him. If he moved the wrong way, the balance could tip out of his favor irreversibly. The question was, was contacting his old informant worth the risk? Or was it an unnecessary evil all in itself?

"Fine," he agreed at last. "I'll call her. But just in case, we need to make sure the General has his mind occupied on something other than us and his brother's memories." He took a deep breath, meeting the eyes of them all individually. "Send out a team to Coruscant. I want Solo and the children dead within the week." 


	14. Chapter 14: Tilt

**Chapter 14: Tilt**

Varen smiled falsely and dipped his shaved head in compliance to hide a petty grimace. He had known bringing her into this had been a mistake, yet he had yielded stupidly to the demands of his men. So here he stood, in his own office—however inelegant and dingy it may be—as she sat oddly in _his_ command chair and observed him with self-important dignity. "I admit I was a little surprised you wanted my help, Varen," she smiled in that curious way. "Since it took six months for you to answer my message. I was beginning to think you had cut me from the plan entirely. But you have to know I do nothing unless it suits my own purposes these days. And I really don't see anything you have that I need."

He raised his head, keeping the smile fixed. "That remains to be seen. And I _am_ in need of your services. Jagged Fel has become a problem when he shouldn't be. I am probably worrying needlessly, but I would rather the threat be eliminated. I need to know how to catch him, and how to remove Chak if at all possible. For reasons you know better than I."

The mistress of murder stroked her peaked face thoughtfully and leaned forward over the desk. "Chak Fel was once a thing to be feared. If he recalled the events on the _Kazul Lah_ I doubt you would remain safe for long." Varen noted she remained conspicuously absent from the pilot's proposed hit list, but refrained from pointing that out. "But what is the likelihood in that? You blundered when you went after the brother, Varen. And now you want me to clean up the mess you've made, am I right?"

He never admitted defeat, but in the presence of this enigmatic creature he could never muster enough nerve to disagree with her. Varen may be a pirate, a crook, and a malefic, but no fool. "Whatever it takes," he sighed. "Now name a price."

She grinned in a way that reminded him of a mischievous child, the kind that liked to catch bugs and then pull off their legs one at a time. "That's something I'll have to think on. What did you have in mind?"

He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Do you need money? Slaves? Spice? I can provide any of that."

She laughed in a surprisingly bell-toned way, pressing her thin fingers together in front of her face. "Such a foolish boy. I require a very different sort of payment." She paused, glassy eyes twinkling. "I want to know about the Skywalkers."

Varen raised his bushy brows and chuckled sarcastically. "Isn't every other holodocumentary in this galaxy about the Skywalkers and Solos?" 

She leaned back in the chair, head tilted to one side. "You misunderstand. I already know their history. I want to know how to change it."

Varen had never paid a great deal of attention to the galaxy's first family until Fel had married one of the Solo's. But he did know that Fel had at least one child with her, and Skywalker had a son back during the war, too. Ben, was it? "Ben Skywalker is the future of their family, and the Jedi too, I suppose."

She seemed perturbed at the suggestion. "How am I supposed to change their history through a child who is guarded day and night by an assassin and a Jedi Master? Give me something a little more doable."

Varen was beginning to get quite irritated with the whole situation and braved the danger to challenge her request. "What do you want with them anyway?"

Her brow ridge rose slightly. "They have ruined every greatness this galaxy was ever destined for. I intend to right that wrong."

He grunted, getting the feeling he wouldn't want to know more. "Well, Jagged Fel has a daughter with one of the Solo's. She's part Skywalker. And I was sending a team in to eliminate her and the mother anyway."

She smiled in that peculiar way again, sending a shiver up his spine even as the feathers of her crest raised in excitement. "Don't kill the girl just yet. I have a feeling she could satisfy both of our needs."

"And what about Fel?" Varen pressed bravely. "How are you going to help me find him?"

Her beak clacked together purposefully. "I don't think that will be much of a problem. He'll be looking for you. We just make sure he gets the resources to find you."

There were few things in the known galaxy that could throw fear into the heart of Jaina Solo Fel, but a visit from her mother was one of them. One thing Jaina had failed to consider when she had volunteered for house confinement was that now her mother knew every second of every day where she was and what she was doing, and was not at all opposed to making unexpected visits. Though over the weeks somewhat of a schedule had been developed, enough so that around certain times of the day Jaina prepared herself for the maelstrom that followed Leia like a shadow.

Today was going to be somewhat easier, at least she hoped. Mara had taken Hanna for the day, let the child get out and play some with Ben. Davin was spending the day with his uncles, who had stopped by early and offered to babysit and 'bond'. It would be easy to think this act of mercy had been done out of the kindness of their own hearts but Jaina was rather inclined to believe Mara had planted the seeds in that oh-so-forceful way of hers. Even so, Jaina had no intentions of objecting to a day off in her never-ending stream of child rearing. 

So when Leia did arrive, precisely at 1300 hours as expected, her rebellious Jedi daughter was waiting, for once rested and prepared, lounging on the settee. "Jaina," Leia smiled as she swept into the room, her white robes of state angelically billowing around her still-lithe form. Whatever else her mother may be, Jaina thought, she would be lucky to age as gracefully as her. Instead of wearing the lines of time and hardship as a shame they were Leia's crowning glory, a noble dignity complementing the new gray lacing her rich brown mane. "How are the children today?"

"The same as they were yesterday," Jaina smiled, somehow finding a rare moment of amusement in what had become routine. "Mara's babysitting Hanna. She took her and Ben to the Ithorian Gardens. Davin's spending the day with Jacen and Anakin. I thought they needed to get out." 

Leia nodded her approval, gracefully perching on the edge of the couch beside Jaina. "Good. They shouldn't suffer for your bad choices."

Jaina rolled her eyes and smiled tiredly. "I stand by my choices. You know that. When are you going to give it up?"

"You know," Leia began, ignoring her, "if you and Jagged had stayed on Csilla during the war, if you had done as you were told and stuck to the plan we had set out this wouldn't be happening. You would be rich and prosperous and respected. Your family would be stable."

"Or we might all be Yuuzhan Vong slaves," Jaina countered. "Who can say? I stick with my decision to leave. It was the right thing."

"Let's not bicker over the past," Leia said, making it clear she had the final word in the matter. "If we must disagree let it be over something worthwhile, like the welfare of my grandchildren."

_Here we go_, Jaina sighed inwardly. "Alright. What new accusation am I facing today?"

"Not an accusation," Leia scoffed. "That's such an ugly word. Just a suggestion. No. A proposition."

Jaina was starting to get worried. She could tell by the diplomatic mask, the tone of her voice and set of her shoulders that this was no idle 'suggestion' like all the others had been. Leia wanted something, and she meant to get it. "What do you mean?" Jaina asked, eyes narrowing. Perhaps she had been wrong about today being more relaxed. The Force was prickling her skin with a sense of dread. Something was about to be said that would change everything.

Leia turned a few degrees so they were face to face, mother to daughter. "I've never held my tongue when it came to what I thought of your life decisions, but it has of yet to make any impact. This time, though, there is more riding on you than your own skin. There are two other lives under your care. This is no sort of existence for them." 

"There's nothing I can do right now, Mother," she told her. "Jag is gone and until he straightens all this out I have to make the best of things here."

"If he's as innocent as you claim, why haven't you been able to prove it yet?" Leia demanded.

Jaina had no idea where this was going, but she was starting to get angry. "I can't even leave here! I can't help him because I'm stuck in this damned apartment!"

Leia tilted her head to one side thoughtfully, her gaze unsettling Jaina—who at some point had stood during her exclamation. "These walls shouldn't hold back a Jedi," she observed gently, in a much more reasonable tone than Jaina would have expected.

Jaina sat in a huff, resting her head in her palm. "You know I stay for my children. Even if Jag does need me, my obligation is to be there for them. Where would they go if I left Coruscant?"

Leia shifted again, an expression of utter sincerity blanketing her countenance. "Give Hanna to me."

Jaina balked at her for a moment, unable to believe her ears. Had the woman who hadn't even wanted to raise her own children just asked to be given guardianship over someone else's? "You have to be kidding," she snorted. "There's no way I'm giving my daughter to you."

Leia was unperturbed. "I would offer to take little Davin as well but you know I was never good with infants."

"Mother," Jaina insisted forcefully, "I am not letting you have my daughter. This is my duty. I'm her mother. I can't just pass that kind of obligation onto someone else because it's not convenient."

"I don't mean _permanently_," Leia asserted. "Just until you can fix this ditch you've dug for yourself. You shame not only yourself and my grandchildren with this scandal, but me as well. Go and fix it." 

It took a few moments for the words to really sink in. When they did, a twisted sort of amusement overcame Jaina and she couldn't help but smile. "Are you, Leia Organa Solo, suggesting that I break out of here? That I undermine your vaulted laws, with your own help? Is that what you're saying?"

The Chief of State kept her eyes fixed on the floor. "Of course not. I was simply suggesting that I would be willing to take care of my granddaughter if you ever require me to do so. And that something might be done about your circumstances. Whatever you decide to do with that information is your business."

However unlikely it was that Jaina would _ever_ leave her children alone with their grandmother, the suggestion itself was enough to make her giggle. "I can't believe it. All nine Corellian hells just froze over."

Leia's eyes lit up like the fires over Tatooine. "So you will do it?" 

Slowly but stubbornly Jaina shook her head. "I'd have to be a bigger idiot than Jacen's become to leave you in charge of the raising of my daughter. But it's a good suggestion. You've raised a good point. It's something I'll need to think on."

They faced off for another few heartbeats before Leia stood, obviously disappointed. "Fine. A few more weeks in here and I'm willing to bet my offer is going to look quite a bit sweeter. Let me know when you change your mind."

Jaina stayed where she was and watched her leave in a stately huff. She worried thoughtfully at her lower lip, imagining how much more quickly the whole mess could be resolved if she could be out there with Jag. Not only that, but a chance for her to bond with Jag again the way they once had. For her to make a difference instead of dinner.

It certainly was something to be considered.

Something else to think on was _why_ Leia had offered something like that. It was completely out of character to for her, and so needed careful scrutiny. There had to be something she gained by getting temporary custody of Hanna, besides her company of course. Before Jaina had been sent to live with Luke, Leia had often tried to turn Jacen and Jaina into some sort of trophy, like perfect little children she could show off to the galaxy as proof of their equally perfect family. Is that what she wanted to do with Hanna?

Jaina had no intention of finding out.

The doorbell rang suddenly, surprising her. Neither Mara or her brothers should be back this early, and since Leia was come and gone she had no idea who it could be. If it had been her uncle she would have sensed his presence from a block away, such a beacon of light in the Force was he.

Unhappy at having her day of peace once again interrupted, Jaina marched to the door and slapped the release. On the other side stood Ismene Banks, hand poised to once again press the ringer. "Oh, Jaina," she smiled. "I was beginning to think you weren't home." She laughed heartily at her own joke but Jaina remained unmoved. Seeing Jaina wasn't diverted, Ismene halted her chuckles and asked earnestly, "Can I come in?" 

Jaina moved out of the way, letting the doctor in. Why this woman persisted in bothering her when clearly her services were no longer needed Jaina couldn't say. She also couldn't tell why it aggravated her so that she did. "What can I do for you?" she sighed, attempting civility. She took a seat at the kitchen table and offered for Ismene to do the same.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something," Ismene began. "It's nothing huge, just a small favor. I hired a woman a few months ago named Danni Quee. She's a brilliant chemist and excels in biology as well, but she's distracted so easily. I've asked her about it and she claims that there's just a lot on her mind." Ismene paused, examining her own perfectly manicured fingernails. "But I know that look she gets. It's the look of someone in love with no hope of being loved in return. As far as I know, she was in a long relationship with your brother before she came to work in the clinic. Am I right?"

Jaina nodded sadly, running a frustrated hand through her unbrushed hair. "Damn," she muttered. It wasn't all that surprising, really. When Danni had left Jacen, Jaina had secretly cheered the woman's resolve. Jacen was foolish to let her go, someone who had loved him so deeply and faithfully. He wouldn't find that again easily. It was his own fault and even if Jaina hated to see him in pain it was a life lesson he had to learn. The fact that everyone around him had tried to tell him had had no effect. But she had fervently hoped that Danni had found someone who could love her like Jacen hadn't. She deserved that at least. To know the poor girl was still pining after him made Jaina sick.

Ismene breathed loudly through her nose. "So I thought maybe you could help me. I don't want to lose Danni, she's one of the best partners I've ever had. I'll be hard pressed to find someone with more lab experience than her. But if she continues on like this I'm going to have to let her go."

"What do you want me to do?" Jaina questioned.

"Talk to your brother," Ismene stated flatly. "Perhaps if they were together again this whole thing would resolve itself. It would benefit your brother as well as my business."

Jaina laughed shortly and without humor. "Yeah, well, good luck with that. If all our prodding hasn't moved him yet it's not going to do any good now. He's miserable without her but says he'll be even more so if he marries her. There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry you wasted your time coming up here." Jaina stood then, signifying her wish for the guest to depart. 

Ismene hesitated and pursed her lips before following suit. "So am I," she sighed. Straightening her hair with her fingers, Ismene looked back over her shoulder at Jaina and asked, "I was sorry to hear about Jagged. But you probably made the right choice. He didn't seem very happy rotting away in that cell." She smiled faintly and turned to leave, but Jaina interrupted her departure suddenly.

"Hang on a second," Jaina snapped, suspicious. "How would you know how he seemed?"

Her champagne eyes grew large and afraid. Jaina sensed her nervousness like the pulse off a nuclear explosion. "I—um—well, you see—" she stammered, hands continuing to frantically comb through her hair. 

Jaina grabbed her agitated fingers in a vice grip and jerked her forward so quickly all the doctor could do was squeal in protest. They were face to face then, eye to eye. Jaina saw the dread in her and used it as a confirmation. Suddenly things made sense, all the little mysteries surrounding the woman. Why she kept coming back, why she blushed when Jag was mentioned, why there always seemed to be a sense of guilt about her. There were other incongruities too, but Jaina was too furious to think about them. "You love him," she hissed in her face, astounded by the revelation and feeling ill to the deepest depths of her soul. "Don't you?"

Ismene opened her mouth as if to protest. Jaina didn't give her the chance. She let go of her hand with a violent shove, pushing her out the open hatch and into the hall outside the apartment. She hit the wall on the other side with a resounding thud. Jaina followed her into the corridor and the hatch to the suite closed in her wake. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she yelled loud enough to rouse the neighbors on the floor above them.

Ismene recovered quickly, some sort of indignant scandalized expression taking the place of her terror. "I don't know what you're talking about, but you have absolutely no business treating me this way."

Had Jaina been a weaker soul this would have been an excellent time to give into the urges of the dark side, but she held firm. "I have no business? You kriffing little slut of a Hutt. I ought to—"

"Now hang on just one damned minute!" the doctor snapped, shoving an accusing finger in Jaina's face. "I don't know how you treat everyone else around you, but you will not speak to me this way, despite whatever concerns you may have. You can address me formally and—"

Jaina didn't even know of her own intention to strike Ismene until the echoing crack of her blow sounded down the corridor and into her own ears. The palm of her hand burned, and a fiery eruption had formed on the doctor's cheek. Her mouth gaped at Jaina as her hand clutched the sizeable welt. Her head shook slowly from side to side in an unbelieving gesture. "You fragging—" 

Jaina hit her again. They were rolling on the floor in a tangle of limbs and hair when the security arrived.

Anakin held his nephew high above his head and wiggled the small babe playfully, bouncing him in his hands. Davin cooed and giggled, smiling toothlessly down at him. Anakin smiled back. "You like that? Uncle Luke used to lift me with the Force, and fly me around the room. Slowly, though, of course. And I was much bigger than you. I'm not sure Jaina would appreciate me risking it, so we'll just have to settle for this, hmm?"

Jacen watched them out of the corner of his eye, smiling to himself. "I love how you talk to him like he understands you."

Anakin grinned knowingly. "How do we know he doesn't?" He looked back down at the bundle in his hands, instinctively dodging in and out of the masses on the catwalk. "Jaina has the same genes we do. And any kid related to me has to be just, you know, phenomenal."

Jacen laughed loudly, throwing back his head at the suggestion. The people around them stared, but he didn't care. They kept up their pace. "You know, if your head was any bigger we might not be able to get it through the door."

His little brother didn't protest, just continued his one sided conversation with the baby. Jacen turned his eyes outward, watching the noonday sun glint off the mirrored buildings covering every square inch of the planet. Traffic was heavy, both on foot and in the air. He bit his lower lip, unsure of the path Anakin had convinced him to take. It's not that he didn't want to see his old friend, he just wasn't sure a relationship was even possible for him right then. He had given Danni his heart years ago, and she had taken it with her when she left.

But Anakin's reasoning was sound, anyway. Tenel Ka was a queen with responsibilities. She wouldn't want to get into anything serious either, if she even still felt that way about him. It shouldn't be awkward seeing her again because they both had so many things going against them it was highly unlikely anything would happen. He could go and visit her as a friend with the knowledge that if he did find he was still attracted to her, nothing would ever come of it. It was a hopeless cause. Jacen drew comfort from that, at least.

The towering hotel complex appeared ahead of them. It was a spacious inn known for luxurious guests and accommodations, and Tenel Ka was a regular patron when visiting Coruscant. Unlike the other Jedi, her queenly duties permitted her from living simply in the Temple during her stays. It would have been unseemly to her court of advisors, but Jacen didn't begrudge her that. Rather, he was proud of her for sacrificing the plain existence of a Dathomiri warrior she loved. 

"Nervous?" Anakin prodded as they waited for the turbolift to arrive. He switched Davin to his other hip, and Jacen had to restrain himself from laughing. Under his Jedi robes was a lightsaber, two blasters, and a vibroblade. His demeanor was strong and masculine, and bouncing a baby around was so very out of character with the persona his brother emitted.

"No," he answered a bit stiffly to hide his amusement. The lift opened and they both went inside. Anakin pushed the button, and the lift took off.

"Good," his brother agreed. "It's just Tenel Ka, after all."

"Right," Jacen agreed. No reason to be nervous. No reason at all.

The lift opened to a ample great room, a thick cream carpet covering the floor and a hefty chandelier dangling overhead. Anakin gleefully pointed out the monstrosity to Davin, who stared at it wide eyed. But Jacen wasn't looking at the royal furnishings. His gaze was instead on the woman appearing from a connected room, her long red hair no longer bound in a mass of braids, but loose and flowing. Her smile outshone the mammoth chandelier as she spotted them. Regardless of the mass of pleated skirts, she came to them at a dead run. "Jacen my friend!"

He didn't have the air to reply, her headlong run into his arms had knocked the breath from him. He coughed and pulled away a bit—just a bit—and beamed down at her. "Tenel Ka, you look fabulous." 

She grinned and punched his shoulder painfully. "So do you. Very Jedi-esque."

He struck a playful pose, pulling what Jaina and he had always called Uncle Luke's "Stuffy Jedi Face". She giggled at his antics, then turned on Anakin. "Anakin Solo! If you haven't grown since I last saw you!"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so. I was fourteen when the war ended." 

She smiled at him again, gray eyes glistening in merriment. "And who is this little one?" she winked at Davin. "Tell me you and Danni didn't have a baby and I didn't even know it!"

He shook his head. "Nope, sorry to disappoint. This is Davin Fel, the newest addition to my sister's growing brood."

She clicked her tongue in the back of her throat wistfully. "How the time does fly. My, my, he is a handsome fellow, isn't he? He looks like Jaina." 

Jacen nodded his agreement, but Anakin interjected, "Really, I thought he kinda looked like me?"

She pursed her lips in mock reproach, but quickly returned her full attention to Jacen. "I am so glad you came to visit me. I never get to see you anymore, since you moved out of the Temple. That's where I see most of my Jedi friends when I come back here."

Jacen shifted his weight to left foot then his right before finally settling on the left. "Well, I'm moving back over there, so..."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly. "Really? Danni finally agreed to it? I know the last time I talked to you she was the hold—"

"Danni and I aren't...together anymore," Jacen interrupted softly.

This time her eyes widen visibly. "Oh? I'm so sorry to hear that. What happened?" her hand came to rest unconsciously on his shoulder in comfort.

Jacen, very aware of the contact, met her gaze squarely. "We had very different priorities."

She nodded thoughtfully, withdrawing her feather touch. "How terrible for you."

He only shrugged.

"We came here to ask you to have lunch with us," Anakin said suddenly. "If you're free, that is."

Her face fell and her brow pinched in apology. "I am unable to today, I'm afraid. I have pressing duties that need attending to."

"Of course," Jacen sighed, having expected as much. "We'll let you get back to them, then. It was great seeing—"

"What about tonight?" she suggested, though somehow the conversation had shifted to almost entirely exclude Anakin. "I have no prior dinner engagements. You're welcome to join me here." After a moment she smiled at Anakin, including him at last in the arrangement.

"Alright," Jacen agreed after a brief wavering. "What time?"

"Will nineteen hundred hours suffice?"

He inclined his head in acceptance. "It will be our pleasure. Until then."

She hugged him one last time in parting before they again headed their separate ways. 

The smoke filling the seedy cantina was choking him, filling his nostrils with the smell of cheap cigars and other more illegal substances. Jag pretended it didn't bother him, just kept his head ducked and strangled the increasing itch in the back of his throat, begging to be coughed. Instead he took a long draught of the stiff ale that seemed to be so popular among his new companions. This time the cough couldn't be completely squashed, so he settled for a slightly gurgled wheeze as his eyes blurred and the whole inside of his mouth numbed.

"You like that, Mike?" the burly smuggler beside him elbowed him sharply, causing the drink still in his hand to slosh out on his fingers. "Kicks where it counts, eh?"

Jag nodded, not trusting his vocal chords to be up to the task yet. Mike had been a name imposed upon him without askance, and since then Jag had learned that to this particular group of disreputable beings "Mike" was a generic term for anyone they didn't know but respected. So even after he had integrated himself among their ranks, he remained simply Mike.

His quest for exemption had began on Rodia, a place known for their mass production of criminals and thieves. He had followed the first lead there on the information Kolivin had given him. It had been a list of the personnel the first squadron of New Republic fighters killed in the engagement in question. Jag had watched the tapes again and again and finally come to the conclusion that if they had indeed fired first, the shot must have come from one particular fighter. The pilot in that fighter had family on Rodia, and so off Jag had gone.

He had found once there that not only was the pilot in question identified by his crewmates as human, but that his parents were both Rodian. It had been an exciting and confusing link in the chain of events Jag had followed for the past few weeks. From Rodia he had accessed a Holonet search for criminal files of all the humanoid males who fit the description of the impostor. It had been a daunting list, but he had managed to wheedle it down to a few hundred suspects.

After that he had scoured the list of crimes for someone who's skills might fit the kind of man it would take to perform the bit. Rant Las had been the one that settled in his gut. He was a notorious member of a Nal Hutta swoop bike gang, the Blood Drivers, racing for Neeba the Hutt in all the major events. His profile had tagged him as a former Imperial TIE pilot who had dropped out during training school. He had the experience and talent, and Jag just had a feeling that needed followed.

Being a pilot himself, Jag had not found it too difficult to prove himself among the gang of thugs. All it had took was one picked fight and a bar brawl to make them believe he was no more than what he said. The difficult part had been getting used to the surreptitious demeanors and activities. Hiding his military bearing had become a full time job.

As he had suspected, Rant Las had disappeared a few months prior and not returned. They all assumed him dead and didn't really care; if he was who Jag thought he might be, they would be right.

The charade had proved tiring soon enough. What had kept him in it had been the anonymous backing of their benefactor, who it was clear enough to see was not Neeba the Hutt. Neeba attended the races and bet on their members—and gained immense wealth from doing so—but Jag had yet to see a single cred be passed from his hand to the Drivers'.

"Hey, Beanie," the smuggler sharing the bench with him—Harv, he remembered—drawled to one of their companions. "Who you puttin' your creds on tomorrow?" he referred to the high stakes race the Drivers would be taking part in next. 

It was easy enough to see why they participated in groups. The less talented members would run their competitors off the tracks, or even shoot them down in more extreme cases, so that one of the Drivers came out on top. The profits were then split evenly among them. But the true advantage came from behind the scenes planning. They would gather and decide who they wanted to win, then bet everything they owned on that person. The earnings from those deals astounded even Jag.

Beanie put down his mug of ale with a thud and stared straight at Jag. "Mike there hasn't had a turn yet. What you say, Mike?"

Jag bought himself some time by taking a very long drink. When he set it aside there were very little inhibitions left. "Whatever. I don't give a damn."

They laughed loudly and he earned a sound clap on the back before the conversation switched to other matters. Most of those matters had to do with a visit to the bordello downtown to top off the night. Hoping to steer well clear of the festivities, Jag half-faked a drunken saunter back to their gang haunt. It might not be as easy or brief a chore as Jag would have liked, but each day he got a little closer. Every time he reaffirmed their trust he was brought nearer the day he could again be a free man.

Wyn Fel had had enough. "This is stupid. All they're going to do is kick me out of the squadron anyway, maybe off Csilla. I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. Can't I just leave and save us all some trouble?"

The Chiss man stared at her through glowing red slits, something akin to contempt pinching his blue face. "It's a little more complicated than that, I'm afraid. You and your entire family have committed high treason after years of faithfulness to this government. I want to know why."

Wyn groaned and slid lower in her seat, resting the nape of her neck on the back of the chair. A featureless white ceiling stared back at her. The same white covered the floor and three of the walls in the interrogation room. The fourth was a large one-sided transparisteel panel where doubtlessly there were a dozen Chiss officers examining and profiling her every word and movement. "I give up. The food's not good enough. Too spicy. Sorry."

She resisted a smile as he ran long blue fingers through his ebony hair, a sure sign of frustration. This was the first time Wyn had been on the receiving end of this sort of procession, and since it would most likely be her last she was determined to have some fun with it. Unlike her other siblings, Wyn Fel only played the part of a studious CEDF employee. She lived that life only because it was her only outlet. It was what was expected of her, and besides, there wasn't a better pilot in the Ascendancy. She could tear up the skies in her clawcraft like no one else, and besting the stuffy Chiss aviators gave her a dark sort of amusement.

"This is not a game, Leiutenant Fel," he snapped at her. "Has the New Republic paid you, offered you something to turn on us?"

Wyn snorted derisively and rolled her jade eyes. "Please. Even if they had, you think we would take it? They're pathetic, and we all know it." 

"Is that a yes or no?"

"No," she pronounced the word carefully.

"Then what's going on? If you tell me, I might be able to cut you a deal. Maybe even keep you in your squadron," he offered slyly.

Wyn sat up straighter and furrowed her brows at him. "Do you know how you can tell when a Chiss is lying?"

"Oh please, humor me," he replied sardonically.

She tilted her head to the right and smiled at him. "You can't. So why should I trust you?"

He turned away from her and gestured to someone behind the glass. Wyn looked at the chrono hanging on the wall to her right, the only adornment in sight. She had been in this room for closing on two hours. Her family itself had been confined to their home for nearing three weeks, and in that time their hope had hinged on one thing: the Chiss had not been able to find Cem.

His existence was known of course, they had seen it on the holorecordings from the monitors when they had helped Jaina and Hanna get away. But what they didn't know was that her parents had always planned for an eventuality like this. It was the whole reason for keeping Cem's existence under wraps like they had. The Chiss didn't know that in the back of Cem's closet there was a tunnel that weaved a half kilometers trail under the ice to a bunker in the mountains behind their mansion. And even if they did know, Cem was long gone by now. And Chak had gone with him.

At least, that's how Soontir and Syal had planned it. Wyn, though, tended to believe that the one quirk in their design was Cem himself. He wouldn't run or hide; not for long. Not her brother. He would find a way to spring them all and escape.

They could have all run that day, Wyn mused. But there had been other, more critical pieces of information stored in their home that her father had to destroy before they could go. He had not always been forthcoming with his Chiss superiors in a lot of matters, and not the least among them was the base on Nirauan and the orders he regularly received from there. Syal had refused to leave him and Wyn, as the only other member of the family the CEDF knew or cared about, had stayed as well. The rationale in that had been that the CEDF would have torn the house apart to find her when they might not waste so much time hunting down her brothers.

That had been their reasoning, anyhow. But after hours, days, _weeks_ of this nonsense Wyn cared much less about her father's secrets. She was ready to get on with her life. She remembered her last word to Jaina before her sister in marriage had fled persecution. _"Just have a place back at Bastion ready for me after my court-martial."_ The idea was becoming much less of a joke to her fatigued mind and soul.

Her inquisitor turned to face her again. "You're being unnecessarily difficult. I just want to know why you turned your back on this life the Syndic has been building for nearly thirty years. For a Jedi brat? I hardly think that could be the only reason."

Wyn was tired, and she had explained it all before. Numerous times. "What do you want me to say?" she sighed. "That we did it for money or fame, for power? None of that's true. We did it for love."

"Love?" he raised one black eyebrow. "That's hardly more plausible." 

She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, cupping her face in her folded hands. It was going to be a long day. 


	15. Chapter 15: Forms of Fear

**Chapter 15: Forms of Fear**

Jacen was procrastinating.

It was one of the things he did best, really. He had put off talking to his father and now it was too late. He had hesitated in his role in the Jedi Order and let his siblings take up the proud mantle of their shared name. He had refused to move forward in his relationship with Danni. Why should being on time for his date with Tenel Ka be any different?

He waited around in his apartment, fully dressed and ready, staring at the comm station. Any moment he was expecting her to call and cancel. He was hoping for it, even. That would mean he didn't have to go and face his fears of rejection or, worse, acceptance. His greatest anxiety lay in the uncertain. If things did work out they could eventually end the same way they had with Danni. That was something Jacen just didn't want to face again.

Yet he had to go. Anakin had bailed on him right after the arrangements had been made but had threatened him with endless torture if he didn't go. He had claimed that the best way to get over Danni would be to get under someone else. Anakin had been joking, of course, but the point was still made. Jacen wasn't so sure but by that point he was willing to try anything if it would get the pretty blond scientist out of his head.

So he found himself at Tenel Ka's door fifteen minutes late, as fidgety as a monkey lizard and sweating like a Gamorrean in mating season. He knocked three times and waited two heartbeats before turning away and making a beeline for the turbolift. He was halfway to freedom when her door swished aside and her lilting Hapan voice called, "Jacen?"

He stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around. "Tenel Ka. Sorry, I thought you weren't home."

Her smile wasn't at all critical. "It's fine. I was beginning to worry _you_ weren't coming." Her glance scanned the surroundings of the corridor. "Where's Anakin?"

Feeling disappointed and not knowing exactly why, he said, "He couldn't make it. Sorry."

She smiled again, gentler. "It's fine. Come in, my chef has prepared an excellent meal."

He followed her back inside the suite, once again observing the plush conditions. This time it was darker, only faint light shining from the glowpanels and blinders pulled over the windows. She led him into the dining area, complete with a table much two large for the two of them alone but with flickering candles all the way down the center. 

"Should we sit on opposite ends and see if we can hear each other?" he suggested playfully.

Her auburn hair smacked against the open back of her dress as she smiled at him over her shoulder. "We could. But I'm thinking sitting on the same end might be a little more polite to our neighbors," she gestured at the ceiling.

He chuckled gently. "Well, I'd hate to be rude."

They both took a seat at the far end of the room and were promptly served a traditional Hapan fare that Jacen found a little too spicy for his tastes. Still, it was delicious, and the company proved more than capable of sating any of his discomfort. 

"Tell me how things are coming in the Jedi Temple," she pressed as the spoonful of food slid delicately between her teeth. "The last time I spoke with Master Luke he was thinking of adding another program for the younglings."

"We've made a lot of improvements," Jacen nodded, sipping at his wine goblet. The liquid was peppery but smooth, coating his throat pleasantly and electrifying his senses. "I've started instructing a lightsaber class for people who've only recently constructed theirs." The corners of his lips lifted gently. "Considering my history with those sort of incidents I think I'm qualified to give fair warning."

She laughed merrily, and for some reason it didn't strike Jacen as odd that they could laugh over the unhappy circumstances that had resulted in the accident she had lost her left forearm in. It had been a very long time ago, and both had reconciled the loss and blame in their own way. Now the only horror that had marked their relationship served to just be another common bond between them that no one else would ever fully understand. "Jacen Solo, you used to be quite the jokester. Funny that your antics never struck me as humorous until you became serious."

He smiled at her and took another bite of his food. Her companionship was an easy one. They knew each other better than most, always had. Even now, when they had both changed and lost so much, he could feel as comfortable in her presence as with his own sister. Whether that was a mark for or against the kind of relationship he half-expected to develop Jacen couldn't be sure.

"Alright, now you have to tell me what's been happening on Hapes since the war began." He pulled a regretful face. "I was very sorry I couldn't make it to your coronation. It was the middle of the war, and I think it was about that time I went on the mission to Helska and met Danni…" he trailed off, mentally kicking himself. Why did all subjects inevitably lead back to her? She plagued him still, months after he had last seen her. Would he never be free of the constraints for his love of her?

Her sigh was wistful. "Not as easy as I had hoped, even after seeing my mother suffer through it all these years. She died of politics; I'll believe that until the end. I really had no choice but to take the throne after that. It was that or let my grandmother reign again, and that's the last thing Hapes needed during a war." She shifted in her seat, gray eyes fixed on her plate as she swirled the fork around through her food. Jacen allowed himself a private smile. His childhood friend had become a beautiful woman. She was graceful and delicate despite her warrior spirit, her flaming hair a crown of glory, eyes wise beyond her years. He was mesmerized by the curve of her lips as she spoke, the way one shock of her bangs continually fell into her eyes. "I've had quite a few attempts on my life since then, mostly from my own cousins. All this not to mention the new attention all the sudden power brought, along with the responsibilities; duty I had expected, though.

"So by the end of the war I had more than fifteen men lined at my door with these grandiose marriage proposals," she was saying as dessert was served. "It was entertaining really," she continued. "I tried to be sporting about it but of course I had to turn them all down in the end. It was such a ridiculous situation. These people I had never even seen before all trying to give me a sales pitch, like I was some sort of trophy that could be bought for the right price." 

Jacen sipped at his wine before he answered. "You'll have to settle down one day, though. Isn't it supposed to be essential for you to have an heir as soon as possible, just to ensure your own safety?" The thought made him a little uncomfortable and secure at the same time. She would need a husband and he was very ill-qualified for the position.

She grinned thinly. "I'm not very worried about my safety. I may not wear the robes anymore but I am a Jedi. If I can't take care of myself how can I be expected to take care of my people?"

He shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

"Enough about my troubles," she stated abruptly. "I want to know what happened to Danni. You two were so…enamored. I was so envious."

Jacen balked at her bold statement, almost spitting out his wine. "What?" he sputtered. 

"Of _the relationship_, nerf for brains," she rolled her eyes. "What I wouldn't give for someone to look at me like you looked at her. How can something like that come to such an abrupt end?" She tilted her head faintly to the side as she spoke, framing her face angelically in the candlelight. His breath hitched, but he pressed on as if it was nothing.

Jacen shrugged like there was an itch between his shoulder blades. "Much easier than you would think. We wanted very different futures. I have absolutely no desire to ever get married and she is incapable of living without the hope of it. We went our separate ways. End of story."

Tenel Ka mused over this in silence for a while before speaking. "That is an unfortunate set of circumstances. We are all raised to believe at least somewhat in love as an enduring truth that can conquer all," she mused aloud, eyes cast to the side at some sight he couldn't see. "Yet so often we find that life and love do not readily coexist without struggle. Priorities, obligations, responsibilities, beliefs…they all put what we want and what we must do at odds with each other. My mother told me something once, though, that might give you comfort. It is a Dathomiri axiom that has soothed my worries since I became Queen Mother. 'If we received half the things we wished for our tribulations would double.'"

He swirled the liquid around in his cup, feeling suddenly melancholy. "Wise words from a wise people."

Her petite hand came to rest gently over his. "I hope you find whatever it is that you're looking for, Jacen Solo."

He looked up and met her eyes, so very deep and intense. Something stirred deep within him, a wistful ache for those eyes to be green instead of gray. He hated it. He would rid himself of this awful longing for Danni if it was the last thing he did. Without word or thought he grasped her hand in his and pulled her forward, crushing her lips with his own. Her breath left in a rush, the free hand snaking around his neck and pulling him from his chair towards her. Their lips moved in a gentle rhythm, a stirring passion with an aged but exhilarating ease.

Jacen found with unabashed glee that the longer and deeper he kissed her the less he missed Danni. The throbbing in his chest subsided when he found her in his arms. So he pulled her closer and let all the pain of grieving drown in this new hope.

Jaina flinched at the look Anakin shot her. "I'm sorry, Ani. I don't know what I was thinking."

He glared at her over his shoulder before lowering Davin into his crib. Despite the soft tones they had to use to keep the children asleep it was easy to see his displeasure in her. Jaina sat beside Hanna—fast asleep—on her bed, arms folded over her chest, watching her youngest brother. He had shown up right after the security officers had pried her off of the doctor, and only some heavy Force persuasion on his part had kept them from hauling her off to the penitentiary. Now they only had to pray the battered doctor didn't press charges or she would end up there anyway. "Well you need to be. What am I going to do with you all, Jaina? Between you and Jace I feel like I've been playing Mommy the past few months instead of looking to the two of you as example like I should be."

Jaina rolled her eyes and snapped softly, "Like you ever looked up to us. You never did I thing I ever told you."

He moved away from the crib and came closer to scowl down at her. It was with surprise she noted how tall and broad shoulder he had become of late. "And I guess it's a good thing, else I'd end up like you have."

She shoved an unhappy finger in his direction. "Now _that_ is uncalled for."

He continued to frown but she could see the slight guilt now mingled with his chastisement. "Jaina, I know a lot of it you just can't help. We're Solo's. Being rash and foolish and stupid is part of what we do. But you've taken it to a whole new level. What could possibly possess you to attack Dr. Banks?" 

Jaina looked at her hands, feeling that if she said it out loud it would somehow become more true. She clenched her fingers into fists to keep them from trembling. "She's in love with Jag." 

There was a stunned hush before he managed a confused, "What?"

She raised her head to meet his gaze, brown eyes ripe with fury. "You heard me. The kriffing doctor is trying to steal my husband."

He jaw actually dropped. "Wow. She actually told you that and she's still _alive_?"

Jaina snorted angrily, running a shaky hand through her hair. "Unfortunately."

He took a seat beside her on the small bed, draping a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Jay. I didn't know."

She leaned against him, taking comfort in his embrace. He held her tight, pouring his compassion through the Force. She drank it in, needing the solace more than anything. How any woman ever knew how to handle something like this Jaina would never know. She had no idea how far Ismene had gone with Jag or whether he might have even reciprocated, but she shivered in rage just thinking about another woman feeling for him the things she counted so intimate.

She had been a child when she had fallen in love with Jag, and it was that childish magic that had always defined love for her since then. They had been through so much. She had shared parts of herself with him that no one else knew, not even Jacen. He had been her only lover, the father of her children, the rock that kept her anchored through all trials. Somehow she had never thought that—even when she had questioned whether or not they could last together—anyone else could feel the same ardor for him that she could. No one would ever love him the way she had in those first years. Now that belief had been turned on its end. Ismene Banks had felt that passion for Jag at a time when Jaina had only given him bitterness and grief. Who would blame him for turning to someone who could love him the way he deserved, when his own wife so obviously couldn't?

The truth was that there were very few times in her life she could count as truly happy. The beginning of their marriage was one of those. It was a sacred time in her heart, the treasure she had used as a comfort and inspired her need for a second child with him. It had never even crossed her mind that those precious memories could somehow be undermined or sullied. But if Jag _had_ taken succor in Ismene wouldn't that desecrate everything she had held so dear?

"He told me that he had never stopped loving me," she whispered at last against her brother's tunic, careful to say it low enough she wouldn't wake Hanna. "Before he left he kissed me like he hasn't in years, Anakin. I felt like we were actually connected again. Like I had just woken from a bad dream and suddenly remembered who he was, who _I_ was. I thought we were going to be okay. But if…" she let the question hang in the air between them like a guillotine poised for the kill.

"No," he stated firmly, twisting her shoulders so she had to face him. His clear blue eyes pierced her soul. "I've known Jag almost as long as you have, and if there's one thing I know about him for sure it's that he is an honorable man. He would never do that to you, Jaina. You have to believe that. You have to." 

She swallowed hard, feeling exposed and alone. Her thoughts were clouded with fear and doubt, masking any clarity she might have found in the situation. "I wish I could know for sure." She saw him about to protest and cut him off, "But there's no way I can, Anakin. We went through a period of almost a year where I had know idea what we were even doing together anymore. If there was an intelligent, beautiful woman there offering him lover, affection, _acceptance_…wouldn't he be crazy if he hadn't?"

"No," he repeated, shaking her gently. "There's no way. And I'll tell you something else, too." He shoved an accusing finger into the air. "That woman isn't half the woman you are. What you and Jag have is special, and he'd never settle for some petty affair when he has true and binding love sitting right here in front of him. That's what would make him crazy, Jaina."

She felt a single tear slip out the corner of her eye. She wanted so badly to believe him, to take his words to heart and block out the awful knowledge that the most important person in her life might have committed the most private of betrayals. "I hope you're right, Anakin. Because if you're not I'm going to have to finish the job I started today," she laughed bitterly.

He smiled as he cuffed her chin slowly in playfulness. "That's the sister I know."

She wiped at her tears and stood, offering him her arm. "Come on, brother. There's cup of hot chocolate in there calling my name." He took it with a grin and they marched out of the nursery and into the kitchen.

"Let's not talk about me anymore," she sighed as she mixed the ingredients and put them in the synthesizer. Anakin took a seat at the table and waited. "Tell me how things have been going with you and Tahiri. Jacen tells me things are getting serious again."

Anakin's face lit at the mention of his girlfriend's name. "I think that break we took really did us both some good. It made me realize how much I really do love her. She's the most amazing person I've ever met, Jaina." He stopped to grin down into the mug Jaina had handed him. "I've actually been thinking about making things more…permanent." 

Jaina's eyebrows shot up at his words. She took a seat opposite him and said, "Permanent as in marriage permanent?"

He grinned mischievously. "Maybe."

Jaina sighed as her brow pinched, taking careful pains to craft her next words just right. "You're only eighteen, Anakin."

He rolled his eyes at her assessment. "Yeah, I think I know that."

"And she's only what? Sixteen?"

"Almost seventeen," he answered in a huff. "And we wouldn't have to get married right away. I wouldn't want to do anything before she turns eighteen anyway." 

Jaina nodded, sipping thoughtfully at her cup of hot chocolate. "That's a good idea. Look, Anakin, I'm no one to lecture you about not rushing into anything. If you know she's the one then go for it. Just make sure that you know first."

His smile was grateful. "I know, Jaina. Thanks."

She could tell by the flash in his clear blue eyes that his danger sense flared at the same time hers did. But still he moved first, leaping across the table faster than she thought was possible and crashing them both to the floor just as the outer wall to her apartment blew wide open. They were locked in an embrace as they rolled, combined shielding keeping the fire and debris at bay. "The children!" she gasped, pulling away from him and coming up into a full sprint. She cursed as she realized she was wearing a simple house robe and her lightsaber was on the nightstand beside her bed.

She skidded to a halt at the nursery door just as she heard the _snaphiss_ of Anakin's lightsaber and the droning of speeder engines combined with the ping of laser blasts.

Chak Fel stared at the rows of bookcases from under his anonymous copper-green hood. His green eyes scanned the spines of the bindings desperately, searching for the one Cem had requested. There was nothing. He sighed in frustration and tugged the cloak a little farther over his head. It designated him as a non-CEDF member of House Sabosen, an ordinary disguise that would arouse no suspicions. According to Cem, that is.

The Csillan library was quite possibly the most comprehensive and unique in the entire galaxy. It was composed not only of everything the GFFA archives would have but also many otherwise uncommon records from the area outside the Outer Rim. And, if he had any luck at all, details about the construction of the CEDF prison facilities. If even one crack could be found in their armor he and Cem were determined to exploit it and free the rest of their family.

Unsuccessful with that particular section, Chak padded his way back to the study area Cem had utilized for their search. His younger brother was leaning intently over the desk, palms splayed flat on the surface as he scrutinized the myriad of documents from under his gray cloak. His fingers tapped on the wooded surface, annoyed, as his face swung from under the hood to look at him. "Find anything?" he prodded in Cheunh.

Chak shook his head sadly. "Sorry."

He emitted a frustrated sigh and turned back to the records. "I'm beginning to think we're going to have to just go in without a plan. You know, guns blazing." There was a humor to his tone Chak found he couldn't properly appreciate.

"I don't think I know how to do something like that, Cem," he winced.

Even though he couldn't make out his features under the enormous hood Chak imagined Cem's disappointed expression. He wished for the millionth time in what short life he remembered that for just once he could be the man everyone expected him to be. Somehow he knew he would always fall short, because he would never be the Chak Fel his family remembered him as. He would have given his right arm if he could be.

"Right," Cem grunted sadly. "Sorry. It was just a joke." He paused in his inspection to look back at his brother. "Why don't you go look in the military records and see if there's anything worth looking at there?"

Chak nodded even though he knew he wouldn't find anything there. Cem was just politely getting rid of him. He was useless to them all, he guessed. That was a feeling he was accustomed to.

The military records weren't even the classified kind, only the sort that came in media reports to the public. They were one of the few pieces of info stored in the library that weren't in hard copy form. He supposed that was because there were numerous copies of it all elsewhere. They were stored in a small data terminals he could access from one-man cubicles with flat screen viewing. As he took a seat with a sigh Chak wondered at how he was even supposed to begin searching.

After a half hour or so of probing around anything that might be useful turned up nothing and left him more bored than the time Jaina had forced him to clean his room. So he inevitably began doing random searches on people he knew, starting with his father and Jag and working down to Wyn. It was in one of these reports he found the records of his own death.

_Search party Omega recovers crashed clawcraft on Oro Banho. Flight records list it as property of Commander Chak Fel. Extensive search of the area reveals no sign of a body. Fel is currently listed as missing in action, but is expected to be declared deceased shortly._

Beside the memo was a holo of himself, expressionless and in full dress uniform.

For a moment he felt nothing. And then, as abrupt and violent as a supernova, something behind his eyes exploded in a brilliant fire. Faintly he head himself scream as he toppled from the chair onto his side, clutching his head in both hands. It felt like his brain scorched clean, all the cobwebs swept away in one fell plunge. Moments of pain and agony, of fear and sickness, utter loneliness emptied from the recesses of his mind in one nauseating lump.

The he was back, staring up from the floor into Cem's hood. His brother's eyes were worried and anxious. Belatedly Chak hoped he hadn't given them away.

"Chak?" Cem pleaded, shaking his shoulders. "Chak, are you okay?"

Despite the flaring pain still ripping at his skull, Chak couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. "I remember," he whispered reverently.

Cem's eyes shot open wide. "What do you remember?"

The reply was haunted. "I remember the breaking." 


	16. Chapter 16: Chase

**Chapter 16: Chase**

The force of a concussion grenade shoved Jaina the rest of the way into the room, plastering her to the floor as debris rained down. A cacophony of noises assailed her; the embattled hum of a lightsaber—Anakin's—fending of tremendous laser blasts that shook the building. But more importantly, she could hear her children screaming for her.

Jaina somersaulted backwards onto her feet, casting off the restricting house robe as she went. Smoke from the initial assault choked her and minimized her visibility to almost nothing. She moved by instinct, hurrying first to the area of the nursery her son's crib should be in. She tripped over one of its legs in her haste, and cursed it aloud with everything she had even as her hands grappled for the newborn.

He was gone.

Her heart jumped into her throat. Panicked, she dashed to the other side of the room to Hanna's bedside. "Hanna?" she called, reaching for both children in the Force. They were alive, but frightened. 

And gone.

"Mommy!" the answering call was faint and farther away than it should have been. In a desperate scramble, Jaina flung herself out of the nursery and down the hall to her room. It wasn't but a few steps away, yet the distance seemed immeasurable. She practically crashed into the bedside table, snatching her lightsaber and awakening the weapon at once. The amethyst light cut through the smoke, once again giving her a sense of direction.

She reached out to her daughter in the Force, using their connection to see through the girl's eyes. There was smoke and confusion, not much for Jaina to go on, but the twirling firebrand of Anakin's saber was still within her sight.

The initial blast had ripped the entire outer wall from the whole apartment, leaving a massive space open to the Coruscant night. It was into this fissure that a swarm of black-clad, armored beings rappelled from an upper level, even before Anakin and Jaina had gotten to their feet. Outside swarmed teams of swoop bikes and airspeeders. By the time he brought out his lightsaber, a Golan Arms CR-1 blaster cannon had been fitted on its tripod and aimed at his chest.

"Kriff."

The first bolt was enough to jar his shoulders from their sockets. He grunted, didn't have time to feel the pain because he had to parry a low rifle shot at his knee cap, then one of the accompanying bursts from the cannon at high right. The third burst was then barely deflected from his left shoulder, and instead pounded into the wall to his left, searing open a hole the size of his head. All this in the space of time his heart took to open one chamber.

He took a step forward and stretched out his left hand, then made a fist. The muzzle of the cannon crumpled, and at the next shot imploded, taking off both arms of its shooter. He took another step, blocked three blaster shots, and _shoved_ with his mind, tossing five perpetrators off the ledge.

"Mommy!" 

For a moment he was distracted, his eyes torn to the far side of the gap. An indistinct figure cradled a bundle of blankets in one arm, and a squirming Hanna in the other. A skiff hung outside the breech, and the figure swung over onto its deck.

The split second cost him. Something slashed into his right shoulder, burning flesh and tossing him backwards into the kitchen table. He winced and rolled, lightsaber still ignited and batting away chasing blasts. It wasn't bad, he thought as he yanked the synthwood table over as a cover. He spared it a glance. Puckered red flesh surrounded by charred tissue and clothing stared back. He grunted against the pain, trying to remember the last time he had been wounded in combat. Blast his inattention!

He stood, both hands extended to their fullest, and yanked the weapons out of the hands of ten attackers. They scrambled for backups, and he somersaulted over the table into their midst. One slash to the right and a man had lost both arms, another cut from hip to shoulder. Another strike to the right and a scattering of limbs flew away.

"Anakin!"

He looked up to see his sister—clad only in a flimsy silk nightgown—salute him with her lightsaber hilt and leap headfirst out the gaping hole in the apartment wall. He sighed, elbowed a man in his way in the face hard enough to splatter blood, and jumped after her.

The Coruscant high rises whizzed by at dizzying speeds, blowing his shaggy hair into his eyes. He wiped it away and stretched out in the Force, reaching both for a speeder he could snare, and Jaina. She had already grabbed an enemy swoop, and was wrestling the pilot for control. He slowed his descent just enough, hoping his timing wasn't off.

It wasn't. He dropped into a passenger seat at the exact right moment, causing the young Bothan couple to scream and swerve out of the designated spacelane. "Sorry," he grunted, swinging over the backseat and into the pilot's couch to sit between them. "I'm going to need to commandeer this," he muttered, and yanked the controls from the male pilot. "Jedi business."

The female continued to scream in a high pitch and wail Bothese in his ear. Anakin pulled the speeder around, turned it towards the fleeing skiff his niece and nephew had disappeared into, and said to the male, "Real catch you got there."

"Filthy human!" he spat back in heavily accented Basic. "Get your Jedi scum out of my speeder!"

Anakin pulled into a steep ascent, then threw him a hurt look. "Now that was a little rude."

The skiff grew closer as he gunned the engines for all they were worth. Ahead he saw an enemy swoop bike begin firing at the skiff, trying to take out the aft engines. _Jaina_, he thought. He kicked the thrusters again, crisscrossing the airlanes, barely missing certain death by a hairsbreadth. The Bothan woman screeched loud enough to drown out the roar of Coruscant traffic.

Suddenly a blaster stuck between his ribs. "Get out!" the male yelled, his violet eyes murderous.

Anakin jerked the speeder to the left, then quickly back to the right, jarring the weapon loose in his grip long enough for Anakin to knock it into the air. "I'm beginning to think you don't want me here."

He finally came alongside Jaina, bent low over the swoop bike handles and looking utterly ridiculous as her nightgown snapped in the wind. "Where are they headed?" he hollered, amplifying his voice in Force so she could here.

He didn't hear her so much as receive understanding in the Force, even though she yelled back. "They have to have a space transport somewhere!" He could feel her fear and anxiety as his own, it was so pungent in the Force. He had never felt her so afraid. He could almost hear her thoughts. _Who are these people, and what do they want with my children?_

Suddenly he swerved, yanking the speeder in a diverging path with hers. At the last second he pulled down on the stick and jumped, calculating the exact moment with Jaina, to land behind her on the swoop. "Nice of you to drop by," she growled and fired another round into the skiff. It was a tricky process. A miss hit could kill her children as soon as save them. One burst took out a chunk of the steering vane, but to no real effect.

"How is that thing getting this altitude?" he sputtered against the wind that smacked her hair into his face. "It shouldn't go over fifty meters!" 

"It must have been modified for the city," she answered, and fired again. Her shot chewed into the starboard thrust nozzle, and the skiff began to slow and lilt to that side. "You take the other swoops, I'll get the children."

"Other swoops?" 

She jerked upwards suddenly, climbing high above the skiff's flight plane, then diving back down like an arrow in for the kill. "You mean you haven't noticed all the people shooting at us?" she queried.

He squirmed in his seat, glancing over his shoulder. With surprise, he noted at least half a dozen black-clad swoop riders hot on their tail. "Sithspawn! Where were they five minutes ago?"

"Chasing me while you were getting chummy with a couple of Bothans," she ground.

"Hey, _you_ try to hitching a ride with them," he snorted.

"We're getting closer," she said, and was right. The arrow tactic had worked, and they were within twenty meters of the fleeing skiff. "I'm going to jump when I get alongside them. You take care of our buddies back there."

He didn't even have time to reply before she went soaring off the seat, lightsaber aglow. He watched her land safely, then turned to the task at hand. Anakin wrestled with the controls, looping back around to face his pursuers. "All right, time to have some fun."

"You do know that we're idiots?"

The woman snuggled against his side nodded solemnly, her auburn hair glistening in the flickering lights outside their window. "This is very true. Do you want to leave?"

Jacen grinned and leaned back further against the plush couch. "I'd have to be an even bigger idiot to do that."

Tenel Ka laughed merrily, and nuzzled the side of his neck in playful affection. "I admit, I am rather pleased at our stupidity." 

"You know, me too," he agreed, and was surprised to find that he meant it. But there were things weighing on his mind, things he would have to make clear before he could be at peace in this new relationship they were embarking on. "We need to talk, though. About what all this means."

She held up a hand to stop him. Her gray eyes blinked slowly, mulling over her next words. He could sense the wheels in her mind working, formulating a response that would appease him. He marveled at her beauty, both inside and out. She was full of character and loyalty, and—as had recently been demonstrated for him—a phenomenal physique. "Jacen, you are my oldest and dearest friend, and I'd like to think we know each other almost as well as anyone. So there is no need to explain. I know that permanency isn't a part of this package; I couldn't have it that way if I wanted to. I will need to marry one day, to provide an heir for my House. Hapes is not an unprejudiced consortium, and I would endanger you, myself, and any offspring by wedding a Jedi."

Jacen nodded sagely. "That's a good thing, Tenel Ka, because I don't plan to get married." He paused for emphasis. "But that leaves us with the decision of what to do in the meantime."

She traced a finger absentmindedly across his collar bone, sending shivers over him. "I get the feeling that love is not a factor for you."

He swallowed hard, unsure for once of what it is she wanted him to say. "Part of me will always love Danni," he admitted. "But I need to get her out of my head, out of my heart. I want to be up front with you. I don't want a serious relationship, I want a change." He cupped her chin, turning her face to his. "I do love you. But I'm not sure I can give you all of me." 

Surprising him again, she smiled. "Good. Neither can I." 

"So. We just make the best of all this until you what, find a suitable husband?" he quirked a brow.

She sighed. "Something like that."

He glanced out the window at the speeding air traffic. "It's a plan."

"The children are in our custody," Varen repressed a victorious grin. If he kept pleasing her like this, he might not be killed after all. "They are being pursued, but my men are confident of escape." 

"Good," his new boss imitated a human grin. She still occupied his office on the asteroid base, but slowly he had become accustomed to it. She had invented a marvelous plan to get rid of Fel, after all. "These offspring will make most satisfactory apprentices."

Varen shrugged, mimicking the posture one with an itch between their shoulders would take. "Apprentice for what? I have plenty of other men here who are already grown, men that could serve you now instead of later."

She smiled placatingly. "I wonder sometimes at your simplemindedness. None of your band can serve in this way. Take my word for it."

"Fine," he nodded, any thought of it already dismissed. "I also have a report on Fel."

"He has followed our clues to the swoop gang on Nal Hutta?"

He nodded again. "Yes. He has ingratiated himself with them, just as you said. I suppose you were right about not letting them know who he is. They played their part better. Now, when we give the signal, he won't be expecting it." 

"We cannot leave a trail this time, Varen," she hissed, suddenly sinister. "We have to make his death look like an accident."

Varen chewed on this thought a minute before proposing, "He won the Bilbousa Pursuit only two standard days ago. The next time he races, we could engineer an accident."

The feathers on her crest fluttered in appreciation of the plan. "Have it done. And no incongruities this time. Your stupidity during the war and our dealings with Chak Fel is why we have this to worry about today."

"Of course," he ground his jaw, but managed to sound subservient. "And what about after he is dead, and the children are delivered to you?"

She climbed awkwardly out of her chair, backward knees springing. "I have a few plans in store for your operation. We can once again dominate the slave trade, with my guidance and a little political pull."

"Political pull?" he frowned. "Slavery is illegal. I deal mostly in spice now."

"You think too small, this is your problem!" she waved a finger at him. "That is the problem with all my predecessors. My master had potential, but even he failed to see the threat in his own henchman. We must be ever watchful, and ever hungry." Her violet eyes locked with his. "Do you understand anything I'm saying?"

"Yes," he lied.

She smiled knowingly. "So. We will bring back slavery. Never you mind how. I'll see to it once my payment has been delivered."

He bowed before turning to leave. She was a strange one, all right. And it was more than likely that she would ruin him with these unfeasible plans. Perhaps it was time to rid himself of that nuisance once and for all. 


End file.
